LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
 AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 STEWART S. HOWE 
 
 JOURNALISM CLASS OF I'r.f, 
 
 STEWART S. HOWE FOUNDATION 
 
 385.4 
 C444ca 
 cop. 3 
 
 I .H.S. 
 
iJ^io?ieer i^yiai/roaa 
 
an 
 
 he QjtoriJ of t/ie L^/iicaao 
 a Q^iort/i Jj'^'^estern QjustcTii 
 
 by ROBERT J. CASEY 
 and W. A. S. DOUGLAS 
 
 t/eseu ^jyXOoi 
 
 hittleseii f^jy LJoiise 
 
 McGRAW-HILL BOOK COMPANY, INC. NEW YORK : TORONTO 
 
PIONEER RAILROAD 
 
 Copyright, 19+8, by the McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc. 
 All rifflits reserved. Thi.s book, or parts thereof, may not be 
 reproduced in any form without permission of the jiublisher. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY WHITTLESEY HOUSE 
 
 A DIVISION OF THE McGraw-Hill Book Compaxy, Inc. 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
to 
 
 TO THOSE THOUSANDS OF MEN AND WOMEN 
 
 (some of whom have passed on) 
 
 WHOSE LIFETIME WORK HAS BEEN AND WILL BE 
 
 THE PROGRESS OF THE PIONEER RAILROAD 
 
^.^^^Ctc/c) 
 
 noii^leaajnents 
 
 T 
 
 For their patience, cooperation, and counsel, the authors are 
 deeply indebted to these gentlemen : 
 
 Rowland L. Williams, President, Chicago and North Western 
 Railway System 
 
 Barret Conway, Vice President and Secretary 
 
 Major General Carl R. Gray, Jr., Administrator, Veterans' Af- 
 fairs, former Vice-president 
 
 Lowell Hastings, General Solicitor 
 
 Bradford W. Carlton, Assistant to President 
 
 Francis V. Koval, Assistant to President 
 
 William F. White, Assistant Secretary 
 
 Quentin M. Lambert, Publicity Manager 
 
 We are also grateful to our old-time colleague of Chicago news- 
 paper days, John Drury, who dug deep into the archives of the 
 railroad and into the material loaned by the Newberry Librarj', 
 the Chicago Historical Association, and the Chicago Public Li- 
 brary ; nor should we forget Sally ]\Iorgan, who typed and retyped 
 the manuscript again and again and again — until it finally passed 
 nmster. 
 
Co 
 
 ontents 
 
 Part One. MAN OF VISION 
 
 Chapter 
 
 1. The Gentleman from Delaware County ..... 3 
 
 2. Charles Butler's Proposal 11 
 
 3. Go West, Young Man 18 
 
 4. His Honor the Mayor 27 
 
 5. Galena — Prairie Capital ........ 38 
 
 Part Two. PIONEER RAILROAD 
 
 6. The Birth of a Railroad 47 
 
 7. The Pioneer 57 
 
 8. North Western Dream ......... 68 
 
 9. Laying the Foundation ........ 77 
 
 Part Three. NORTHWEST TERRITORY 
 
 10. Territory in Need of a Railroad ....... 85 
 
 11. Twin Cities in the Wilderness ....... 95 
 
 12. The Rails Come to Minnesota 100 
 
 Part Four. THE WAR YEARS 
 
 13. Civil War 113 
 
 14. Consolidation 121 
 
 15. Ogden Retires 129 
 
 16. Marvin Hughitt 135 
 
 17. Rural Opposition 140 
 
 Part Five. THE LAST FRONTIER 
 
 18. The Omaha Climbs Aboard 149 
 
 19. Empty Horizons . . . . . . . . . .155 
 
x contents 
 
 Chapter 
 
 20. Advance on tlie Dakotas 159 
 
 21. The Great Capital Fight 172 
 
 22. Picnics and Excursions . . . . . . . . .177 
 
 Part Six. PALACE CARS, HEROES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 23. Luxurious Travel 187 
 
 24. "Ah, Noble Kate Shelley" 191 
 
 25. The Great Blizzard 199 
 
 26. Casey at the Throttle 208 
 
 Part Seven. THE LAST LAP 
 
 27. Entrance to the New Century . 215 
 
 28. Yesterday's Frontier 226 
 
 29. Again a Farmer's Railroad 234 
 
 30. Tourists, Sculpture, and Cattle 243 
 
 31. Progress — and Setback 248 
 
 32. Trusteeship and Reorganization ....... 253 
 
 33. "Bud" Williams Takes Over 261 
 
 Part Eight. CENTURY OF SERVICE 
 
 34. Notes on a Southpaw Railroad ....... 269 
 
 35. Locals and Streamliners ........ 276 
 
 36. The First Hundred Years Are the Hardest .... 282 
 
 Appendi.x 289 
 
 Bibliography 321 
 
 Index 323 
 
..»*p -*^ • ''^- -•*^-i^'-???'^.-y- \-y>.^'f:-^s^^^jf''. 
 
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 .^/-/ (^//^ 
 
 MAN OF VISION 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter / 
 
 THE GENTLEMAN FROM 
 DELAWARE COUNTY 
 
 To THE Citizens of Chicago and to the People of the Northwest: 
 Would you behold William Butler Ogden's monument, look around you ! 
 — History of Chicago, by A. T. Andreas; 188i. 
 
 The big man gently patted the big bay gelding, and the liorse, 
 responsive as always to his master's gestures, halted his easy, power- 
 ful stride. 
 
 Tile trail they had been following had risen somewhat from the 
 Delaware River bank, so that the pair of them — man and beast — 
 were looking over the countr^'side. This trail began at Stamford in 
 the northeastern corner of Delaware County, where it joined a 
 slightly more imposing roadway that ran west for sixty-odd miles 
 to meet the Hudson River at Ravena — whence it was an easy ride 
 to Albany, then in 1835, as now, the capital of New York State. 
 
 The gentleman from Delaware County let the reins hang on his 
 horse's neck, shook the stirrups from his feet, stretched his long 
 legs, and wliile his mount cropped green mulberry leaves, stared 
 ahead of him. This was the spread of country that had a peculiar 
 attraction for him. Riding from his near-by home in Walton on his 
 way to the sessions of the State Legislature, he was wont to halt at 
 this particular rise, kick off his stirrups, swing around in the saddle, 
 and look backward ; coming home to Walton from Albany, as now, 
 he would halt here, and stare ahead. 
 
 William Butler Ogden threw one leg over his saddle, hooked his 
 reins to the pummel, and slid easily to the ground. He walked for- 
 
 3 
 
4 M A N O F V I S I O N 
 
 ward a dozen paces and looked down. Ahead of him was cleared land 
 which, not so long ago, had been a mighty forest ; the path meandered 
 through tree stumps. As he stood there, the ring of axes came to him 
 sharply on the clear April air ; there came also the echo of a crash 
 as an oaken giant tumbled to earth. Ogdcn's tree-fellers had been 
 busy during his last sojourn in Albany. The view was unobstructed 
 now, all the way to the little white town of Walton. Philadcli)hia was 
 growing fast, and orders for lumber from the Ogden sawmill — to be 
 floated down the Delaware — overtaxed the mill, though the raw 
 supply along the river had been barely touched. 
 
 Let us take a look at Will Ogden as he stands staring past the 
 tree stumjjs, getting from his favorite post of vantage his first clear 
 look at his home. The little white houses were clustered around the 
 lazy river. The big white house some two hundred yards from the 
 river's edge had been built by his father ; so had the sawmill by the 
 river. The mill wheel rotating slowly under the gentle urge of the 
 river had been erected by Will himself twelve years before, when, 
 in his seventeenth year, his father had been stricken by paralysis, 
 and the eldest son had dropped the study of law to become a lumber- 
 man. 
 
 "We must move with the times, Dad," the boy had explained to 
 his father. The sick man, unable to do more, understanding but voice- 
 less, had nodded in acquiescence. Will knew he would have smiled as 
 he agreed, had not his features been frozen into immobility by the 
 scourge that had come upon him. 
 
 So there was the sawmill wheel. 
 
 A tall man — just over six feet — Will Ogden was broad-shouldered 
 and slim-waisted. His hands were large and capable. He had brown 
 hair, a clean-shaven face, a high forehead; his mouth was firm and 
 determined, his eyes clear gray. All in all, a remarkably handsome 
 man of twenty-nine, clad in the fashion of a gentleman of his day 
 on horseback: long, high-split, brown riding coat; neckcloth; tight 
 soft-leather breeches ; booted but unspurrud. AVill Ogden loved his 
 horses, as his horses loved him, and had no use even for a riding whip. 
 
 Across the lazy river, opposite the sawmill wheel was the flour 
 mill wheel, rotating under the gentle urge of the Delaware as slowly 
 and majestically as its neighbor. Behind it was the low flat-roofed 
 mill, white as its finished product — the flour mill as busy as the 
 
THE GENTLEMAN FROM DELAWARE COUNTY O 
 
 sawmill, for Philadelphia needed bread as well as lumber. Beyond 
 the little white mill, beyond a green garden showing flashes of other 
 bright spring colors, was a low white-timbered house with ivy cling- 
 ing to its walls. 
 
 Strange that a young man should be made unhappy by looking 
 at such beauty as a gentle river, a flour mill wheel, a pretty garden, 
 an ivy-covered, timbered house — that a man should be made suddenly 
 miserable, restless. One side of the river stood for all that he was 
 himself, all that he had gained, all that he had built of himself — 
 postmaster of Walton, member of the State Assembly from Dela- 
 ware County, major and brigade inspector in the state militia, friend 
 of that fellow Democrat, President "Andy" Jackson, friend and 
 confidant of Governor "Bill" Marcy of New York ; one of the lead- 
 ing lumber merchants of the state. Young, handsome, well to do, 
 popular — and unmarried! 
 
 The Ogdens had been "people" since the early settlement of North 
 America. The first American Ogden had been the younger son of a 
 Yorkshire squire, a wild, hard-riding youth without prospects and 
 with a facility for picking wrong numbers and wrong cards at the 
 gaming tables. His father, beating Horace Greeley to the punch line 
 by more than a hundred years, had said in eff'ect, "Go West, young 
 man!" — the West in those days being the shore line of His Majesty's 
 American Colonies. To his advice he added five hundred pounds — 
 no mean sum in those days. 
 
 This first William Ogden straightened out quickly, secured a 
 grant of land in New Jersey through the influence of his family, 
 gathered to him portions of several shiploads of bond servants, and 
 built a house. He farmed land to a sufficient extent to provide for 
 him a livelihood plus about as many comforts as were being enjoyed 
 by his brother, the now-reigning Yorkshire squire. He lived in a 
 cleared and productive section near Morristown. His immediate 
 neighbors were the Weeds and the Butlers. William Ogden married 
 a Butler and raised a brood of children. Four of his sons served in 
 the Revolutionary War. One of these, Abraham Ogden, a lawyer, 
 bought the present site of Ogdensburg in St. Lawrence County, 
 New York, on the St. Lawrence River. He had built a sort of fort 
 there, as protection against the Indians, which was ignored by the 
 
MAN OF VISION 
 
 British during the Revolutionary War. In tlic War of 1812, Abra- 
 }iain Ogdon's fort and trading village were destroyed by the enemy 
 — but the city of Ogdensburg rose on the ashes — and still thrives. 
 
 William Ogden's first cousin, Peter Skene Ogden, wandered into 
 the Far West years before wandering into the Far West became 
 known as a hazardous occupation. Peter Skene Ogden was a trapper, 
 selling his furs to the first of the Chouteaus in the village of St. 
 Louis. He discovered Ogden's Hole in what is now the state of Utah, 
 where he had fresh water, and where furred animals came to drink 
 and to die and to have their hides forwarded to old Auguste Chou- 
 teau. When Brigham Young decided that a town should be built 
 around Ogden's Hole, he called it Ogden, and it became a great city. 
 Grateful that Peter Skene Ogden had laid a trail to fresh water, the 
 Mormon leader also picked a mountain and named it after the 
 trapper. 
 
 William Butler Ogden's grandfather served as an officer in the 
 Revolutionary War ; when that trouble was over, he retired to his 
 estate, refusing repeated demands that he enter politics by serving 
 in the New Jersey Legislature. His son Abraham, who had engaged 
 in the lumber business, became intrigued over the stories of the im- 
 mense timber forests in the "upper Delaware country." A patent to 
 lumbering stretches of forest could be secured through family influ- 
 ence; the Delaware River rolled down from the forest to Philadelphia 
 — and was not Philadelphia the new country's greatest, fastest grow- 
 ing city.'' 
 
 Abraham Ogden was a great persuader; he talked his clan into 
 moving into the state of New York, into securing patents to the 
 great pine, elm, and oak forests. His wife was a Weed, his aunt had 
 married a Butler, a cousin had wed a Wheeling. Weeds, Butlers, 
 Wheelings and Ogdens moved to the banks of the lazy Delaware, and 
 all of them prospered. Some of them are still there. 
 
 Abraham Ogden, with the help of Weeds, Butlers, and Wheel- 
 ings, built the little white town of Walton on the banks of the river. 
 The families had come to primitive forest, west of the Catskills, 8 
 miles from Albany, 60 miles from what — in courteous terms — was 
 then called "a carriage road." 
 
 The clans cleared the land, the}' built their homes — crude at first, 
 gradually iinjiroved — broke the forest, sowed and reaped, con- 
 
THE GENTLEMAN FROM DELAWARE COUNTY 7 
 
 structed their rafts and then their flatboats. Within two decades they 
 had established their trade with the New World metropolis, Philadel- 
 phia. Governor De Witt Clinton, visiting Abraham Ogden on the 
 matter of his support of the Erie Canal project, was so entranced 
 with the beauty of Walton and the surrounding country that he 
 made it the subject of one of his powerful orations in support of the 
 man-made waterway. He thundered : 
 
 In this sequestered section of our State, where courageous families 
 arrived in wilderness on pack horses within my own memory, patriotism 
 has found a home amid dignified courtesy and genuine hospitality. The 
 society so formed and developed through the influence of these pioneers 
 is distinguished through all the surrounding country no less for its general 
 intelligence and intellectual cultivation than for its moral and religious 
 character. The marts of commerce are open to these gallent people be- 
 cause nature provided them with a waterway. And where nature has 
 faded, mj' friends, then man must find a way. . . . 
 
 Abraham Ogden built his white-timbered house and his sawmill, 
 raised his family from harsh living to comfort, and fell victim to a 
 stroke of paralysis at the early age of forty-two. Inside of seconds 
 he was changed from a strong and hearty man to something breath- 
 ing — but otherwise inanimate; his brain apparently functioned for 
 he could move his head slightly in gestures of assent and dissent. For 
 five years he so lived and then passed on. This was in 1820, when he 
 was forty-seven years of age. William Butler Ogden was within a 
 month of being seventeen when his father became helpless. For three 
 years after that, he ran the sawmill with the help of a scholarly Weed 
 uncle, who could keep books but who didn't know the difference be- 
 tween a pine tree and an elm. But the business moved almost of its 
 own momentum ; Philadelphia needed lumber, and all that the Ogdens 
 had to do was to hew timber, shape it, and slide it down the river. 
 Will Ogden, hoping against hope for his father's recovery, had 
 studied law. With Abraham's death, he became the actual instead of 
 the virtual head of the business. There was his mother, a gentle, well- 
 bred, fragile person ; most certainly she had to be taken care of — no 
 fiddling with the law when the lumber business could ensure comfort 
 and moneyed ease for this little ladv. 
 
MAN OF VISION 
 
 Then there was Mahlon — young Mahlon, as keen on being a law- 
 yer as his eltler brother had ever been — and the three girls, lovely 
 girls, who would have no trouble finding husbands. Off they would 
 flit in a few years, so ver^' few years- — and, as assuredly, off would 
 flit young Mahlon to practice law in Philadelphia or Washington 
 or New York. And Will Ogden would be alone with his adored and 
 adoring mother. But just a moment! Not so alone, after all — for 
 there was Mary, whose father, John Wheeling, operated the flour 
 mill across the river from the Ogden sawmill. Mary had not always 
 been important to ^Vill Ogden — once she had been just a grubby 
 little girl in pigtails, a nuisance to himself and to other little boys. 
 Then, all of a sudden, she had grown uj) — a honey-haired, slim, jiink 
 and white girl of seventeen. 
 
 This realization of Mary and her physical assets came to AVill 
 Ogden strangely enough as he was leaving his father's grave. Friends 
 and relatives had gathered round the grief-stricken widow, her 
 daughters, and second son. Will found himself alone — and then felt 
 a touch on his arm. 
 
 "Cousin Will, I'm so sorry." 
 
 (Most everybody in Walton — that is the Ogdens, tlie Weeds, the 
 Wlieelings — called each other "cousin.") 
 
 The voice was soft, melodious. Will Ogden turned to look at IVIary 
 Wheeling. What a pretty girl ! And yesterday she was a child ; today 
 slim and lovely even in unrevealing, voluminous black. 
 
 "Thank you. Cousin Mary." 
 
 Cousin? He repeated the word to himself, made a swift calcula- 
 tion as to the sort of cousins they were. Oh, yes ; Granduncle Weed 
 had married a ^\niccling back in Morristown before the War of In- 
 dependence. And that Wheeling lady had been a cousin of Mary 
 W'hceling's grandfather. Far enough away, by any standard. Pecu- 
 liarly, he thought, his brief mental genealogical study left him deeply 
 relieved. 
 
 They walked on together behind the rest of the funeral party. 
 
 "Mary," said Will — he was always a direct sort of person — "I 
 was thinking that some of these evenings I ouglit to row across and 
 pay your folks a visit." 
 
 "I know they'll be glad to see you, Will," Mury replied demurely. 
 
THE GENTLEMAN FROM DELAWARE COUNTY i) 
 
 There had been, from the very beginning, a perfect understanding. 
 It came to Will Ogden as he jogged easily along, his C3'es on the flour 
 mill wheel and not on his own sawmill wheel, that he had never actu- 
 ally proposed to Mary Wheeling. 
 
 They had been sitting one summer evening on the porch of Jolin 
 Wheeling's house. This faced the long garden, the mill wheel, and 
 the river; you came to it either from the water and up the garden 
 path or you came around to it by a circular driveway off the rutted 
 roadway. ]\Iostly forest behind the Wheeling house, for the highway 
 (so-called) to Philadelphia and to Albany ran on the sawmill side 
 of the river. 
 
 "When we're married — " Will had begun. He was always one for 
 expressing his thoughts and his plans well ahead. 
 
 "Yes, Will," she said quietly — a smile on her face at the sudden 
 rush of color to his — "what is it you have in mind when we're mar- 
 ried ?" 
 
 She was holding in her hand a daisy, from which she had been 
 picking the petals one by one; she would often do this when they 
 were sitting together. 
 
 "Then — then — it's all right?" he managed to stammer. 
 
 "Of course it's all right. Will," whispered Mary. "It's always been 
 all right ever since I started pulling daisy petals on you when I was 
 nine years old. You know, 'He loves me, he loves me not.' Hundreds 
 and hundreds of times, Will, and it has always come out right. You 
 do love me, don't you?" 
 
 Will Ogden took from her fingers the recently unpetaled daisy. 
 Carefully and methodically he placed it between the leaves of the 
 notebook that he always carried in an inner coat pocket. Then, de- 
 liberate as always, he took his Mary in his arms and, for the first 
 time, kissed her. 
 
 That had been nine years ago, back in 1826, about a year after 
 Abraham Ogden had been relieved from all pain and laid to rest. Two 
 years of sweet courtship; and the wedding had been set for a June 
 day of 1828. 
 
 He was in Philadelphia the previous March — busy for a week on 
 an important lumber deal. On a blustery night, his brother Mahlon 
 galloped, mudstaincd, to the door of his inn, rushed Will to liis room, 
 
10 MANOF VISION 
 
 !Uid broke tlic news; Mary had passed away after two days of mys- 
 terious illness, diaf^nosed by the doctor as "heart trouble." 
 
 On the evening of December 20, 1881, the members of the Chicago 
 Historical Society and more than fourscore distinguished guests 
 gathered together to listen to an address by the Honorable Isaac 
 Arnold, president of the society and a former associate of the Hon- 
 orable William Butler Ogden, first mayor of the city of Chicago, first 
 president of the Chicago and North Western Railway. At the same 
 time, a portrait of Ogden, painted by George P. A. Healy, was pre- 
 sented to the society. Ogden had died in 1877. 
 
 "I recall a dark stormy night in December, 181'3," said Arnold, 
 "when we were living together at his house on Ontario Street. The 
 wild winter wind was moaning through the trees which stood close to 
 the building. A great wood fire was burning on old-fashioned and- 
 irons. It was late ; we were alone, and had been narrating to each 
 other incidents of boyhood — on the Delaware and the Susquehanna. 
 We had been speaking of schoolmates and early friends. 
 
 "He had been humming old, half-forgotten ballads; he seemed 
 wholly absorbed in his memories. The fire burned low, but he still 
 kept on talking. Finally, he went to his room. He returned with a 
 package of carefully preserved, long-ago-faded flowers — roses, pan- 
 sies, some old garden flowers, daisies — a ribbon, a glove, some notes 
 and a poem. All tenderly cherished relics of one from whom, many 
 and long years before, he had been separated by death and around 
 whose grave, amid all the active and absorbing scenes in which he 
 was living, his memory still lingered fondly and faithfully. He never 
 forgot the Sabbath chimes with which her voice had mingled. Half 
 a century after her death and in his last will and testament he made 
 provision for all those near to her who were still alive." 
 
Cl 
 
 banter 2 
 
 CHARLES BUTLER'S PROPOSAL 
 
 Charles Butler, an alert, impatient, clever little man, was pacing 
 back and forth on the long, wide verandalike front porch of the 
 Ogden home as Will Ogden- — and Jonathan, his horse — slowly jogged 
 into view on the Delaware road. Will recognized his brother-in-law 
 and waved a salutation ; Charles returned it, at the same time yank- 
 ing a huge timepiece from his fob, glancing at it, and returning it ; 
 he then resumed his pacing. 
 
 "Poor Charles," murmured Will to himself. "I thought he was 
 out West some place. To look at him, you'd think I was hours late 
 for an important conference. He never forgets he is descended from 
 a Duke of Ormonde and sometimes he acts more like a duke than, I 
 would suppose, does his noble cousin, the head of the clan." 
 
 At the steps of his home. Will Ogden slid to the ground from his 
 saddle and smacked Jonathan's rump. The understanding horse 
 paced majestically on and disappeared round the corner of the house 
 in the direction of the stables. 
 
 "What good breeze brings you to Walton, Charles?" asked Will 
 as the two men shook hands. The door opened, and a dainty, pretty 
 little woman, looking a full decade less than her fifty years, fairly 
 ran into her son's arms. 
 
 "Back again, Will !" cried Abigail Ogden. "I was beginning to 
 wonder — " 
 
 "My usual three days' journey from Albany, Mother dear," her 
 son replied with a laugh. "I'm not a hard rider, you know. You 
 wouldn't be worrying or wondering if Charles were not here. He 
 ought to know we haven't train service as yet between the capital 
 and Walton." 
 
 "I've been waiting a day, a whole day," complained Charles, again 
 11 
 
MAN or VISION 
 
 mechanically' j-anking out his huge watch — which he returned to his 
 pocket without even looking at its face. "Important matters, Will, 
 important mutters for j'ou and for me." 
 
 "He hasn't told me a thing about them, ^Vill," said Mrs. Ogden. 
 "They must really be something of moment for him to hang onto 
 them up till j'ou get here ; but he's been fizzing like a leaky ginger 
 beer bottle for twenty-four hours." 
 
 Even Charles Butler laughed, made another gesture to his watch 
 pocket, remembered in time, slapped his hands together. 
 
 "A splendid speech, Will," he went on. "I might say a remarkable 
 speech. Your prophetic words alone put over the New York and Erie 
 Railroad Bill." Charles Butler funibltd in u ])ocket, drew forth a 
 sheaf of papers. 
 
 "How in God's name did you get hold of my speech.'"' asked Will 
 Ogden. "You weren't in Albany, and the newspapers haven't had 
 time—" 
 
 "Special dispatch rider to Washington," replied Charles gleefully 
 as he slapped the folded papers against his hip. "Old Hickory is in- 
 terested in railroads. Our first western President, Will, and it will 
 be railroads which will open up the West. I might say he's damnably 
 interested, if Mother" — with a bow in his mother-in-law's direction — 
 "if Mother will excuse the language." 
 
 "Did the President give you tliat copj- of ni}- speech?" asked Will 
 Ogden. 
 
 "Well, not exactly," answered his brother-in-law. "He passed it 
 along to my brother, the attorney' general. Ben knew I was coming 
 here to talk to you about matters akin and so he gave it to me." 
 
 "Matters akin.'" asked Will Ogden. "Well, Charles, your matters 
 akin will have to wait till I bathe and sliave, change my clothes, and 
 have done justice to the splendid supjier I know Mother is liaving 
 prepared for us." 
 
 Charles Butler, impatient as always, held up a hand. 
 
 "Just a minute," he cried. "Just a minute. Mother. I want to read 
 you what the President underlined." Without waiting for approval 
 from his audience, he proceeded : " 'The state-pride alone of the Em- 
 pire State, gentlemen, calls for the construction at once of the Erie 
 road. Otherwise, the scepter will depart from Judah — ' " 
 
 "How's that. Mother.'' The scepter from Judah.'"' 
 
CHARLES BUTLKR's PROPOSAL. 13 
 
 "Wonderful." Mrs. Ogden laughed. "Please continue, Charles." 
 
 Will Ogden chewed his lower lip, while his cheeks colored. He was 
 never a vain man ; in fact, he was shy and always had to nerve him- 
 self to public speaking and public appearance. 
 
 " 'Philadelphia,' " intoned Charles Butler, thoroughly enjoying 
 himself, " 'is your great rival and, if New York is idle, will gather in 
 the trade of the great West. Look at what our sister state, Mary- 
 land, has already accomplished with the Baltimore and Ohio Rail- 
 road.' 
 
 " 'Continuous railways from New York to Lake Erie, and south 
 of Lake Erie, through Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, to the waters of 
 the Mississippi, and connecting with railroads running to Cincinnati 
 and Louisville in Kentucky, and Nashville in Tennessee, and to New 
 Orleans will present the most splendid system of internal communi- 
 cation ever devised by man. To look forward to the completion of 
 such a system in my day may be considered visionary. But, gentle- 
 men, I pray that at least some of us will live to see it realized.' " 
 
 Charles Butler folded the papers, placed them in his inside pocket, 
 and grinned impishly at his embarrassed brother-in-law. 
 
 "Son," whispered Mrs. Ogden, her eyes glowing, "I'm proud of 
 you. I wish your father were here." 
 
 The Widow Ogden watched her eldest son and her son-in-law, a 
 decanter of old port between them. Charles Butler, nervous, impa- 
 tient, his words tumbling on each other; Will Ogden, listening in- 
 tently, his churchwarden pipe cold and unheeded in one hand while 
 the fingers of the other drummed on the little wine table. 
 
 He has never been happy, thought the widow to herself, never a 
 day since Mary went away. I think he would have gone from me long 
 since but for the children. Now Mahlon is a lawyer, and the girls are 
 finishing school in Philadelphia. For years I feel he has been training 
 Cousin George Weed to run the mill. He wants to get away from this 
 place of sadness as far as he is concerned. The years have made no 
 difference. And here's Charles Butler with the biggest of his big 
 schemes. 
 
 The Widow Ogden sighed, blinked back tears as her crochet needle 
 moved in and out — listened. 
 
1* MANOFVISION 
 
 "There's just one tiling vou left out of tiiat speech, Will," Charles 
 Butler was saying. 
 
 "And what was that, Charles?" 
 
 "Well, you talked of the East and the South .uul what we call the 
 West. You're going to crisscross it with railroad lines. Andy Jack- 
 son calls liiniself a Westerner but, my goodness. Will, inside of a 
 very few years Tennessee won't even qualify as the Middle West. 
 And then, after the Middle West, comes the West and the North- 
 west." 
 
 "Unsettled land, wild land, desert hind," said Will Ogdcn shortly. 
 
 "I know, I know," continued Butler. "It has just taken you three 
 days to come from Albany here. Eighty miles in three days. Inside 
 of a very short time when the railroads cover the territory you men- 
 tioned in your speech, you'll make that sort of journey in three 
 hours. Three hours instead of three days, W^ill. Think of that." 
 
 Charles paused to sip his port. 
 
 "I am not primarily concerned with the Erie road or the Balti- 
 more and Ohio road or even the Erie Canal. New York wants the 
 trade from the West or what j'ou now call the West; so does Phila- 
 delphia. You and I can get the jump on both those places. Will." 
 
 "How.'"' asked Will Ogden. He rose to stick a quill into the flames 
 of the log fire, lit his churchwarden, returned to his seat. But his 
 mother noticed that he let his pipe go out again as he listened to her 
 effervescent son-in-law. 
 
 "We'll build a city by the Great Lakes," said Butler. "It will be 
 an outpost of trade at first, then it will gather to itself the trade of 
 the surrounding region as the immigrants flock to the rich land. And 
 then, in the race for the trade and the commerce of what you call the 
 West, we'll be a thousand miles ahead of New York and Philadel- 
 phia." 
 
 "I presume, Charles," said Will Ogden slowly, "that you are re- 
 ferring as 3'our base of operation to that sometime onion patch they 
 call Chicago." 
 
 "Onion patch !" snapped Butler. "Why, I'll have you know Chi- 
 cago was incorporated as a town two years ago — " 
 
 "How many people do you have to have to incorporate as a 
 town?" asked Will, with a grin. 
 
 "Wiv, I believe it's a hundred and fiftv — but there were more 
 
CHARLES BUTLER S PROPOSAL 15 
 
 than a tliousand people in Chicago then. Listen, Will, I've just left 
 there — well, a month ago. I bet there's more than three thousand 
 there now, and the number is growing daily. Why, riding from De- 
 troit to Chicago, it was lucky George Bronson and I were not using 
 a wagon. The trail was so cluttered with immigrants heading for 
 what you call an onion patch that we had to push our horses through 
 the forest to get round them." 
 
 "What about the Indians?" asked Will. "Has that difficulty really 
 been all cleared up .'"' 
 
 "Absolutely. The Black Hawk War ended that. The treaty was 
 signed almost a year ago — ^last May in fact. Sacs, Foxes, Chippewas, 
 Winnebagoes, Pottawattomies, they've all gone. The Fort Dearborn 
 massacre is just an unpleasant memory which can never recur. Chi- 
 cago in a few short j'ears, the way things are going. Will, will be the 
 great metropolis of the Middle West. Serving people all around and 
 in front and not giving a damn for Philadelphia or New York — or 
 Baltimore." , {l/iijuu'\ 
 
 "And how is all this supposed to interest me.'"' asked Will Ogden. 
 
 Charles Butler leaned/forward in his chair; here was the big mo- 
 ment. "This trip George Bronson and I made to Chicago was his 
 second. He has been deeply interested since he met Robert Kinzie in 
 New York. This Kinzie is a son of the original settler at the mouth 
 of the Chicago River where it flows into Lake Michigan. He was the 
 Indian agent at the time of the massacre, and his family has title 
 to a lot of property on both sides of the river. George was in Chicago 
 a year ago and he bought one hundred thirty acres of Kinzie land 
 on the north side of the river. On this last trijj of ours, I bought 
 those acres from Bronson." 
 
 "You bought them.'"' queried Will. 
 
 "Yes, I bought them, and a damn good buy, too. Now the govern- 
 ment is holding an auction of public lands in Chicago in May — next 
 month. I have secured permission to follow immediately with an auc- 
 tion on my acreage. I figure, at what we think prices are going to 
 be, that I shall get back my purchase money on a sale of only a 
 third of my lots." 
 
 " Wiat did you pay for this property ?" 
 
 "A hundred tliousand dollars," answered Charles Butler. 
 
16 MANOFVISION 
 
 For the first time that evening the Widow Ogden felt impelled to 
 enter into the conversation. 
 
 "Where did you get a hundred thousand dollars, Charles?" she 
 asked. "When you came to me for permission to propose to my 
 daughter you told me you were worth about half that, all told." 
 
 "Truth to tell, Mother" — Butler's reply had a faint trace of 
 embarrassment — "I'm not worth much more than that today — " 
 
 " — and part of that is your property in Geneva," observed Mrs. 
 Ogden. "Your wife's home and your children's jionie — not to say 
 your own home." 
 
 "What did you do, mortgage.'"' asked Will. 
 
 Charles Butler saw he had to lay his cards on the table. 
 
 "Up to the hilt," he replied, "and then some. But don't worry ; 
 my investment is good as gold — -" 
 
 "What do j'ou owe on this onion patch by the lake's edge.'" asked 
 Will, but his quiet smile encouraged his brother-in-law. 
 
 "I put a thirty-thousand mortgage on the Geneva place. Don't 
 worry, Mother, I had your sweet daughter's permission. I had about 
 twenty-five thousand in liquid assets. I borrowed fifteen thousand 
 from Brother Ben; and you know, both of you, Ben is a canny soul. 
 And as for the rest of it, I gave Arthur Bronson my note." 
 
 Will Ogden considered. Charles was evidently, to his mind, leading 
 up to a loan. 
 
 "I could let 3'ou have fifteen thousand if that would help. Maybe 
 more later — " 
 
 "To hell with your fifteen thousand!" shouted Butler, jumping 
 from his chair. He stood in front of Will Ogden — then remembered 
 himself. "My apologies, jNIother, my deepest apologies. But, God 
 Almighty, I didn't come to either of 3'ou for money ! If I could raise 
 another hundred thousand dollars I'd slap it into Chicago real es- 
 tate. Yes, every penny I could get my hands on. I can't lose." 
 
 "You interest me, Charles," said Will Ogden calmly. "But if you 
 don't want money from Mother and me, what is it you do want.-"' 
 Butler resumed his seat, swallowed half a glass of port. 
 "I want you to go to Chicago as the representative of the Ameri- 
 can Land Company, which is the name I have given the enterprise. 
 I want you to go as soon as possible, lay out the streets, plot the 
 subdivision. The government hasn't sense enough to do that ; they're 
 
CHARLES butler's PROPOSAL 17 
 
 just selling staked pieces of prairie. You studied survej'ing, along 
 with other things. You're my man, and I'll make it damn attractive 
 to you — " 
 
 "What about the sawmill?" asked the Widow Ogdcn in a strained, 
 small voice. 
 
 "Oh, the sawmill," answered Butler with a wave of his hand. 
 "Why, George Weed can handle the mill and the trees just as well 
 as Will here. It would do Will good to get out and look at this new 
 country. If he does, I'll wager him half a dozen of my Chicago lots 
 against a case of this port he stays there." 
 
 "Oh, I hope not," breathed Mrs. Ogden. 
 
 "What do I get out of it?" asked practical Will. 
 
 "I have that all figured out," replied Butler jubilantly. "If you 
 just handle this sale, I'll give you twenty-five per cent of the gross 
 proceeds. If you'll stay in Chicago and handle the whole development, 
 I'll take you in as a fifty-fifty partner in everything after I have 
 recovered fifty thousand dollars-^or half of my present investment." 
 
 "You intrigue me, Charles," said Will Ogden as he rose and 
 stretched. "You and your onion patch. Don't mind my jokes, 
 brother-in-law; I'm of a mind to try things out. It isn't the selling 
 of lots, but something else 30U said that stirs me." 
 
 He wants to get away, whispered the Widow Ogden to herself. 
 
 "What does interest you, then. Will?" laughed Charles Butler, 
 happy now that he seemed to have the battle won. 
 
 "Railroads ! Charles, railroads !" replied Ogden. "That bit where 
 you chided me over my speech to the Assembly. Not railroads run- 
 ning into Chicago, but railroads running out of Chicago. Away off 
 into the wilds, Charles, my boy." 
 
 "WeU then, you accept ?" asked Butler. 
 
 "Let's sleep on it," said Ogden, stretching again. "But if I feel 
 in the morning as I do now, I'll promise at any rate to take care of 
 your first big sale. The rest will be up to what I think of Chicago — 
 and what Chicago thinks of me. Get to bed. Mother" — kissing her — 
 "and you, Charles." 
 
L^// (7 /)/('/' 3 
 
 (i O \V E S T , YOUNG MAN 
 
 Will Ogden elected to make his journey — ^he still called it his "jour- 
 ney of inspection" — to Chicago by water from Buffalo. Since his 
 talk with Charles Butler and his agreement to enter into the sales 
 arrangement proposed by his brother-in-law, the newspapers had 
 been lavish in their news stories of the flow of settlers into northern 
 Illinois and Chicago. The New York Evening Star had considered 
 the migration worth a scries of articles by a special correspondent 
 who accompanied an emigrant train made up of "twenty-two wagons 
 and one hundred and fifty hardy sons and daughters of Pennsyl- 
 vania." The Indian tribes had been pushed across the Mississippi for 
 all time, and the American people were convinced that it was "safe 
 to go West." Wagon trains came from New York and Virginia as 
 well as Pennsylvania ; the people of the South moved to this promised 
 land mostly over the Father of the Waters. Times were "hard" along 
 the seaboard, and cheap land, maybe free land, had a great appeal. 
 The news had filtered through to the Old World, too. The vehicles 
 of the immigrants were of every kind ; sometimes no vehicle was used, 
 for many a man traveled the whole way from the East on foot. Some- 
 times the light wagons containing the possessions of the movers were 
 drawn by the people themselves, the head of the family between the 
 shafts of the wagon, harnessed with a collar and traces, while the 
 rest of the family according to their strength pulled with ropes at- 
 tached to various parts of the vehicle. 
 
 The pioneers from Pennsylvania, Ohio, and the southern states 
 betrayed their nativity and prejudice in the schooner-shaped wagon 
 box, the stiff tongue, the hind wheels double the size of the forward 
 ones and closely coupled together, the whole drawn by a team of 
 four or six horses guided by a single line in the hands of the teamster 
 
 18 
 
GO WEST, YOUNG MAN IV 
 
 riding the high-wheeler. The harness was of gigantic proportions ; 
 the massive leather breeching, the heavy collar, the immense housing 
 of bearskin, the iron trace chains, and the ponderous doubletree 
 and whiffletrees all made a striking picture. 
 
 The New Yorker and immigrant from farther east was marked as 
 far as his caravan could be seen by a long coupled, low-boxed, two- 
 horse wagon provided with a scat, from which with double lines the 
 driver guided his lightly harnessed pair of horses. Occasionally the 
 old "steamboat" wagons were seen, bearing some resemblance to 
 the crooked, heavy wagons used by the peoj^le from the southern 
 states. 
 
 The contents of the immigrant wagons wei'e astonishing indeed in 
 amount as well as variety of articles. A glance under the canvas cov- 
 ering disclosed a startling array of baggage — if "women, guns, 
 rifles, boys, girls, babies, and other knickknacks" may be called bag- 
 gage. Below, on the axles of tlie wagons, dangled pots and kettles 
 of all forms and sizes. Sometimes dogs and even cats were included 
 among the movables of the immigrating families. To the Yankee 
 mover, a plow, a bed, a barrel of salt meat, a suj)ply of tea and 
 molasses, a Bible, and a wife were the indispensable articles. 
 
 In front of these westward-moving caravans rode the older, sons 
 and sometimes tiie daugliters. Their duties were chiefly to attend to 
 the driving of such domestic animals as had been brought along. 
 Sometimes a considerable amount of livestock was driven along by 
 the movers — one family came with 500 sheep, another man drove 
 150 hogs — but as a general rule a few horses and cows, several sheep, 
 and hogs made up the wealth of the Illinois pioneer. 
 
 Ogden had booked passage on the brand new 500-ton steamer 
 James Madison, advertised as "the last word, the final achievement 
 in luxurious lake traffic." He had had to use the influence of Attor- 
 ney General Benjamin Butler to secure cabin space; the James Madi- 
 son, according to her owner, Charles M. Reed of Erie, was booked 
 "to the gunwales" for months to come. Ogden was to share his sleep- 
 ing space with one George W. Dole, described to him as "a big Chi- 
 cago merchant." 
 
 He rode first to Albany where he tarried a couple of days clearing 
 up his legislative business, sent his horse Jonatlian back to Walton 
 
20 MANOFVISION 
 
 in charge of a groom, and then went aboard the New York, Albany, 
 Bull'alo boat, Monarch of the Hudson, with his gear. On May 11, 
 1835, bright and early, he stood on Reed's wharf and gazed up quiz- 
 zically at the "Pride of the Lakes" — yet another flowery name added 
 on by the James Madison's proud owner. 
 
 "Why," said Will Ogden to himself, "I can't see the boat for the 
 people." 
 
 The James Madison was indeed loading "to the gunwales" ; the 
 regular passenger list for this haul was 865 — never mind stowaways 
 and crew. On the two passenger gangplanks men, women, and chil- 
 dren were shouting, squealing, weeping, laughing, and — the men 
 anyhow — cursing. They carried beds, blankets, pots, and pans ; they 
 carried hens, cocks, chickens, geese, turkeys, dogs, and cats ; they 
 toted buckets, shovels, spades, and scythes ; they staggered under 
 the weight of huge wooden trunks, and not a few of the male immi- 
 grants staggered also under the influence of an inside cargo of liard 
 liquor. 
 
 Aboard the James Madison it seemed impossible that any more 
 people could be accommodated but still they kept on coming over 
 the gangplanks, prodded by sailors, rammed ahead by the crowd 
 behind. 
 
 "A modern Noah's Ark," remarked AVill Ogden aloud, without 
 thought. 
 
 "Yes, sir," chuckled a voice close b^', "and by gad, sir, like Noah, 
 they have found land — or, rather, they will when they get to Chi- 
 cago." 
 
 Will Ogden turned to look at a stout, pleasant-appearing little 
 man of middle age. Before he could respond to the quip, the stranger 
 went on. 
 
 "Mr. Ogden, I believe? Charles Butler told nic what you looked 
 like. As your traveling companion, allow me to present myself. 
 George Dole of Newberry and Dole, Chicago. At your service, sir." 
 
 Will grasped the outstretched hand. "My pleasure, Mr. Dole." 
 
 "Just follow me," counseled the Chicagoan. 
 
 They pushed through the crowded wharf to the prow of the 
 steamer. Here was a third, narrow gangjilank guarded by four husky 
 sailors. Their leader recognized Dole, touched his cap, and made 
 way. The pair ascended, climbed a jjerjiendicular stair, and arrived 
 
GO WEST, YOUNG MAN ^i- 
 
 in the wheelhouse. Here sat two big grizzled men who were introduced 
 by Dole as Reed, the owner, and Captain Slocombe, master of the 
 James Madison. On the table were jugs of whisky, rum, and gin, sur- 
 rounded b}' glasses. Reed poured out generous drinks. 
 
 "We'll toast Chicago, the coming metropolis of the lakes," ob- 
 served Dole. 
 
 "Right," said Reed. 
 
 They drank. 
 
 "However," went on the shipowner, "if Chicago passes Buffalo 
 it will be mainly my fault — at the rate I'm running folks out there. 
 Mr. Ogden, I presume you're the gentleman who persuaded our State 
 Assembly into warming up progress for the Erie Railroad?" 
 
 "They give me some credit," admitted Will. 
 
 "I guess 3'ou're railroad-minded," observed Captain Slocombe. 
 "Well, so long as you don't put us boatmen out of business entirely." 
 
 "There'll be trade enough for both methods of transportation," 
 said Dole. "And that time is almost upon us. But west of Chicago, 
 gentlemen, it has to be land transportation — and that means rail- 
 roads." 
 
 "Humph" — from Reed — "what about canals .'* Cheaper hauling, 
 too." 
 
 "You can't crisscross the nation with ditches," Will Ogden found 
 himself saying, somewhat to his own amazement. "Cost too much, 
 too slow. You can do it with railroad tracks." 
 
 "Mr. Ogden," cried George Dole. "You're a man after my own 
 heart! Fill up the glasses, Captain, and let's drink another toast. 
 To the railroads of the West ! And they can't come too quickly !" 
 
 The two boatmen grinned as they tossed down their liquor. 
 
 "I am one of the original incorporators of the town of Chicago," 
 observed George Dole proudly as he sat on the edge of his bunk pull- 
 ing off his heavy boots. "That was just two years ago come July. 
 I suggest you sleep in your shirt and breeches. The Jaines Madison 
 is a fine boat, but you never can tell with steam. Prefer sail myself, 
 but speed is the thing today, and I march with the times. As I was 
 saying, we incorporated." 
 
 "How many of you?" asked Ogden. 
 
 "There were only twenty-eight of us who claimed the right to 
 
MAN OF VISION 
 
 vote, and thirtoin of those were niniiiiiy for office, including nij'self. 
 I'll give you their names, first because you're going to meet them 
 all personally, and secondly because if you stay in Chicago, these 
 folks are going down in history." 
 
 George Dole checked off his list on stubb^^ fingers. 
 "E. S. Kiniberly, J. B. Beaubien, Mark Beaubien, T. J. V. Owen, 
 William Ninson, Hiram Pearsons, Philo Cai'pentcr, George Ciiap- 
 man, John Wright, John Temple, Mathias Smith, David Carver, 
 James Kinzic, Charles Taylor, John Hogan, Eli Rider, Dexter Hap- 
 good, George Snow, Madore Beaubien, Gholson Kercheval, George 
 Dole — that's me — II. J. Hamilton, Stephen Gale, Enoch Darling, 
 W. H. Adams, C. A. Ballard, John Watkins, and James Gilbert." 
 Down to his shirt and breeches, Dole stretched himself in the lower 
 bunk. 
 
 "Who won?" asked Will Ogden. He was sitting on the floor of the 
 cabin, puffing at his churchwarden. 
 
 "I tied John Owen for the number one spot," replied Dole. "My 
 partners, Oliver and Walter Newberry, didn't qualify themselves. 
 Walter had been in Galena for several months drumming up trade. 
 We're wharfers, shippers, connnission merchants, if j'ou don't know, 
 and when we get to Chicago this boat will tie up at the Newberry 
 and Dole dock off Rush Street. Oliver was down along the Mississippi 
 somewhere. He's planning to build flatboats for the Illinois and 
 Michigan canal trade to the big river, once they get it cut." 
 "You think Chicago has a future.?" asked Will. 
 "Son," replied George Dole, swinging his short legs over the bunk 
 to face his questioner, "if I didn't, what in hell would I be doing 
 there? I'm no rugged plainsman, Mr. Ogden. I can take a certain 
 amount of hardship, but, looking at me, you probably say to your- 
 self, this is no pioneer in the accepted tough American mold. I'm 
 not, and neither are Oliver or Walter Newberry. We come of the 
 same type. New England merchants who could have stayed back 
 there and prospered. We belong to a breed which has to push for- 
 ward to accomplish its destiny — let me say, rather, the destiny of 
 these United States. What's the shore line, settled by my ancestors? 
 What is the middle country, settled by yours? Just scratchings on 
 the surface of what is destined to be the greatest nation in the world. 
 "You're headinjr into a rougli land, Mr. Ogden. You could stay 
 
OOWESTjYOUNGMAN iJ3 
 
 in the great state of New York, and opportunity would bo ever 
 pounding on your door. I know all about you. You're a well-to-do 
 businessman, you're a member of the Legislature, you're a friend of 
 the President, among 3'our kinfolk is one of Mr. Jackson's chief 
 advisors. Let me ask you a question, Mr. Ogden. You look too sound 
 a man on your feet and in your head to be swayed entirely bj' Char- 
 ley Butler's oratory. You're giving up security and comfort to gam- 
 ble. Wh}', I have been told that you're likely to be governor of New 
 York some day — maybe more than that. W[\y are j'ou coming to 
 Chicago?" 
 
 Will Ogden sat, silent. George Dole waited, his stockinged feet 
 dangling over his bunk. 
 
 "Well, Will," he said at long last — this was the first time he had 
 called his companion by his first name — "well, what about it.'"' 
 
 "It's this way, George," replied Ogden slowly. "I'm running away 
 from something. I'm running into something. As you say, I was set- 
 tled at home, but — " he hesitated — "but, if I can put it this way, 
 George, the Lord gave and the Lord saw fit to take away. There will 
 always be a loneliness, back there, and maybe where I'm going, I can 
 shake it off." Will Ogden stopped, abashed. He had as good as let 
 out his secret — and to a comparative stranger. 
 
 "The Lord gave," said George Dole slowly, "and, as you say, the 
 Lord saw fit to take away. Blessed be the name of the Lord, Will. 
 Maybe He planned it that way." 
 
 The little man rose from his bunk, stretched out his hand. Will 
 returned his grasp. 
 
 "You're going to do big things in Chicago," said George Dole, 
 "for sure. Captain Slocombe's rum has me slightly dizzy. I'm going 
 to bed." 
 
 "I'll take a turn outside first. I need a breath of good night air," 
 said Will Ogden. 
 
 Below him, in the belly of the James Madison, the close-packed 
 throng seemed at first to be just a sea of heads. The night was star- 
 lit, with a clear new moon. Lake Erie was smooth ; the ship rose and 
 fell gently. When he had stepped out of his candle-lit cabin, things 
 had seemed at first a sort of blur. But above the murmur of voices 
 there was music, singing. The people below him were on their way 
 
2* MANOFVI8ION 
 
 to a far place, an unknown place — but thoy acted as though they 
 were mighty happy about it. 
 
 There was a tangle of tongues below him; there was talk in Ger- 
 man, and ho caught a flow of words in French. A big man — a full 
 six inches taller than I am, thought Will — was talking to a com- 
 panion. His words were English, but his accent was definitely foreign. 
 He had his broad back to the wiicclhouse structure, and his head was 
 in line with Will Ogdcn's boots. His companion, definitely a New 
 Englander by his talk, seemed as puzzled as Will over the giant's 
 nationality. 
 
 "Where you come from.?" asked New England. 
 
 "I be Cornishhhhh," hissed the big man. 
 
 "Cornish? Where's that?" 
 
 "I be from Cornwall," the giant answered, "in Britain. You call 
 it England. We call it Britain. We was there firstttt. I be lead 
 miner." 
 
 "Where are you heading for?" asked the New Englander. 
 
 "Galena," answered the Briton. "Plenty lead, plenty work in 
 Galena. Lead, she all dug up in Cornwall. Galena, I fix up good." 
 
 "Big city. Galena," observed the New Englander. "Me, I'm from 
 Massachusetts. But my folks came from England and this is the first 
 time I knew there was any others but English living there." 
 
 "It be long story," said the giant. "What be you?" 
 
 "I'm a road builder. Been working on the National up by Cumber- 
 land. I figure there's going to be lots of road building and street 
 making around Chicago." 
 
 Will Ogden leaned over, tapped the New Englaiider's shoulder. 
 
 "Pardon my listening," he said as both men turned around. "But 
 if you're a road builder I'll be able to use you in Chicago. Surveyor?" 
 
 "Yes, sirree." 
 
 "I don't know where I'll be stopping as yd," said Will. "But you'll 
 be able to get me through Newberry and Dole. My name is William 
 Butler Ogden. We'll dock at their wharf, Mr. — ?" 
 
 "Hale, William Hale," answered the road builder. "Born in Bos- 
 ton. My dad fought under Washington all over the place. As to 
 where you can find me, mister, I'll be sleeping under the stars, 
 wrapped in my blanket, and I'll be eating as long as five dollars 
 lasts. Then ril sell niv blanket — " 
 
OOWESTjYOUNQMAN 25 
 
 " — you'll be working for me the day after we land," promised 
 Will. "If you need an advance — " 
 
 William Hale raised his hand as though brushing something away. 
 
 "Maybe I'll need it, Mr. Ogden — when I go to work. Thanks, but 
 I'll manage." 
 
 The lead miner had been listening intently. 
 
 "You rich man. Mister Hale," he said with a grin. "Me, when I 
 pay my boat fare, I got two dollars." 
 
 "And you're going to Galena!" exclaimed Ogden. "Why, that's 
 nigh onto two hundred miles from Chicago. How are you going to 
 make it?" 
 
 "I walk, I work, I eat, I get there," replied the miner, laughing. 
 
 Why, you couldn't dare offer money to a man like that ! Tramping 
 to Galena through the forests, over the rough trails, with settlers' 
 cabins maybe a day's tramp apart, maybe more. Here he was, 
 thought Will, -with two thousand dollars on his person, a draft for 
 five thousand on Robert Kinzie. More could be had as he needed it. 
 The miner had come 3,000 miles, the roughest part of his long jour- 
 ney still ahead of him; the road builder had thrown up his job, was 
 going to Chicago with but very little more. They had no fear, either 
 of them; complete faith in themselves, complete faith in the future. 
 
 "I'm proud to have met you, gentlemen," said Will Ogden. 
 
 A hush had descended on the ship ; the babel of many tongues had 
 ceased. A tall, thin, bareheaded man wearing the cassock of a priest 
 stood on a packing case at the far end of the deck. He had clapped 
 his hands together to bring silence. Now he stood with one arm still 
 raised to hold attention. 
 
 "Friends," he said in a clear resonant voice which carried back 
 easily to Will Ogden. "I'm Father O'Meara. But don't be alarmed. 
 I am not going to preach to you. There are too many faiths repre- 
 sented among you for me to so presume. We are embarked on a 
 great adventure. We have come from many lands ; some of you 
 speak strange tongues. But that won't last long. Very soon you will 
 be talking the language of the country you are adopting as your 
 own. Those of you who have been born in America have an advan- 
 tage, as have those like myself who have used the same tongue in 
 other countries. But all in all, we start fairly equal. 
 
26 MANOFVISION 
 
 "We are poor pt'ojjle, all of us. ..." A>'i]I Ogden caught a brief 
 smile on the priest's face as his eyes seemed to pass over the well- 
 dressed figure standing by the wheelhouse; later they were to be- 
 come great friends. Father O'Meara in 1837 became pastor of the 
 Church of St. Mary's of the Lake at the southwest corner of 
 what is now State and Lake streets. 
 
 "Yes, 3^ou are poor in the things of this world," went on Father 
 O'Meara. "But that does not bother you. You are rich in blessings, 
 rich in opportunity. You cannot fail. The courage that embarked 
 you on this journey is J'our bulwark. And now, if you will permit 
 me, I shall sing to you a song of remembrance recently written by 
 my fellow Irishman, that brilliant composer, Tom Moore." 
 
 A glorious voice swept over the ship. 
 
 Oft in the stilly night. 
 
 Ere slumber's chain has bound me. 
 
 Fond memory brings tlie light 
 
 Of other daj's around me ; 
 
 The smiles, the tears, 
 
 Of boyhood's years. 
 
 The words of love then spoken. . . . 
 
 As the singer ended on the third verse there came seconds of si- 
 lence before applause broke out. Father O'Meara was helping a small 
 wizened man up onto the packing case ; one hand clasped a bow, the 
 other an ancient fiddle. The little man arranged himself, snapped 
 the bow across the strings of his instrument, broke into gay music, 
 as Father O'Meara sang: 
 
 Fly on the sugar bowl ! 
 Shoo, Fly ! Shoo ! 
 
 Earlier, Thomas Moore's new song would have made Will Ogden 
 profoundly miserable. Now, though it hud stirred him, his thoughts 
 were pleasant. 
 
 A girl and a boy were jigging down there on the deck wliile the 
 throng, led by Father O'Meara, was clapping hands in time to tiie 
 fiddler's rendition of Pop Goes the Weasel! 
 
a 
 
 lapter 4 
 
 HIS HONOR THE ]M A Y O R 
 
 The steamer James Madison made the trip from Buffalo in four 
 days. The vessel was overloaded, and Captain Slocombe proceeded 
 slowly. Calls had been made at Cleveland and at Detroit, but these 
 stops did not lessen the human cargo by very much. About sixty 
 persons disembarked at Cleveland, less than forty at Detroit. The 
 Chicago area was the main goal — the city for those who planned 
 to enter business or industry, the farm lands to the west and north- 
 west for those who intended to live by the soil. 
 
 On the morning of May 15, 1835, Will Ogden caught tlie first 
 glimpse of the village that he was to help build into a metropolis. 
 There had been a heavy rain the night before, but the sun was bright 
 an'd Lake Michigan sparkled. The shore line was divided about 
 equally between grassy meadow and fine waterside growths of maple, 
 Cottonwood, oak, ash, cherry, elm, birch, and hickory. 
 
 The steamer passed through the habor basin — recently deepened, 
 as George Dole pointed out, by the Federal government at a cost of 
 five thousand dollars — and entered the river. On his left were the 
 neatly kept, whitewashed stockade and buildings of Fort Dearborn. 
 At the base of the slight promontory on which stood the military 
 reservation, straggled a street of houses, stores, and inns. At the 
 water's edge were a series of wharves at most of which vessels were 
 either loading or unloading. On Ogden's right was a large brick 
 structure, the only imposing building in sight ; behind were green 
 fields and patches of forest. 
 
 "That's where j'ou'll put up," said George Dole. "The Lake 
 House, best of its kind between here and New York. Business, of 
 course, is on Water Street, but A'ou can get back and forth across 
 
 27 
 
28 MANOFVISION 
 
 the river easy enough, what witli tlio ferries and the rope bridge." 
 
 "Where's my property?" asked Of^den. 
 
 "Right along there back of the Lake House," replied Dole. "From 
 the hotel to the lake is all Kinzie land. There's the old Kinzie house, 
 the one with the Lombardy poplars around it." 
 
 The river was clear and transparent. The mud and filth of Water 
 Street were not visible from the deck of the Jajiws Madison. The 
 low wooden buildings seemed to hold out a promise ; and on the other 
 bank of the river was beauty. The bright colors of the flag of his 
 country waved in the breeze over the fort. 
 
 Captain Slocombe's private gangplank was lowered ahead of those 
 for the use of the ordinary passengers and, except for two sailors. 
 Will Ogden, closely followed by George Dole, was first to jjut his 
 foot on terra firma — if it could be termed terra firma ! 
 
 He stepped on a board, and it flapped upwards, the portion where 
 he had planted his foot sinking into a hole. The plank jumped about 
 four feet at its farther end, bringing with it a rain of mud which 
 splashed the carefully dressed Ogden from head to toe. 
 
 "Got to be careful in the rainy season," Dole laughingly observed 
 as Will wiped mud from his face and vest. "But, as I always say, 
 remember Rome." 
 
 "What about Rome?" asked Ogden taking out a second handker- 
 chief and still rubbing away. 
 
 "It wasn't built in a day," laughed Dole. "Come on, don't be down- 
 hearted; that's good Chicago land you're wiping off your face and 
 clothes, and it will do right by you in the end even if it was a bit 
 rough on first acquaintance. My men will take your things to your 
 hotel, and now we'll walk over to ]\Iark Beaubien's Sauganash House. 
 We'll be just in time to meet the bigwigs of the town ; sort of weekly 
 get-together, this is." 
 
 Avoiding mudholcs, sometimes skipping from plank to plank — he 
 had learned to hit these things in the middle or not at all — ^^Vill 
 Ogden followed his rotund little guide, wondering as he walked. 
 
 The little town was jammed full of people, all sorts and conditions 
 of people: trappers, farmers, merchants, sailors, soldiers, adven- 
 turers ; they pushed and shoved, fought for firm footing, floundered 
 in the mud, staggered against stalled wagons, dodged the hoofs of 
 tired horses. The stores were makeshift affairs out of which and 
 
HISHONORTHEMAYOR 29 
 
 into which people were forcing theii- way. On raised boards, barely 
 out of reach of the sticky mud, other merchants were displaying 
 wares on the open street. 
 
 "Fifteen thousand people here if there's a single soul," cried 
 George Dole as he himself slid in the mud and grabbed at his com- 
 panion to keep on his feet. "That's because of the public lands auc- 
 tion. You haven't much time to get your lots ready." 
 
 Together they pushed their way through the doors of a large 
 frame building which opened directly into a huge, raftered, smoke- 
 filled room witli a crowded bar at the far end. To their right was a 
 large alcove furnisjied with several long tables at which men were 
 noisily eating and drinking. 
 
 "There are our friends over by the windows," said George Dole 
 as they pushed forward. A dozen diners arose from their chairs and 
 greeted the little merchant vociferously. They remained standing as 
 Dole introduced Ogden. 
 
 "Friends," he cried, "a new Chicago citizen, the Honorable Wil- 
 liam Butler Ogden, member of the New York State Assembly, a 
 friend of Andy Jackson and a friend of the common man ! Mr. Ogden 
 is giving up his chances of becoming governor of New York in the 
 not-so-far-distant future to cast in his lot with us. He is interested 
 in land and also, I think, even more interested in transportation. 
 Come along now, Will, and shake hands." 
 
 Grasping his friend by the elbow, George Dole marched around 
 the table shouting each name as its owner shook hands heartily with 
 the new arrival. 
 
 "Elijah W^entworth; Grayson Hubbard; John Calhoun, wJio edits 
 our newspaper, the Chicago Democrat ; Mark Beaubien, who runs 
 this hotel and plays the fiddle ; Doc Pete Pru3'ne, who doses us ; Tom 
 Owen ; Archie Clybourne ; my partner, Walter Newberry ; Gholson 
 Kercheval, who represents Uncle Sam hereabouts ; Captain Wilcox 
 from the garrison ; John Hogan, our postmaster. That's all for the 
 time being, Will. Now sit you down. AVait, here's Bob Kinzie just 
 coming in. You've got a draft on Bob if I remember right." 
 
 Will had forgotten his mud bath; these were pleasant, hearty 
 men, urging him to eat and drink, asking for news, listening with 
 deepest interest. Keen-minded, daring men. 
 
 They've got something to live for, thought Will. 
 
30 M A N O F V I 8 I O N 
 
 Witli the lulp of the Cunibcrlimd roiul buildir, William Hale, 
 Ogdcn quickly got his lots into selling order. There was labor aplenty 
 available in Chicago in the early summer of 1835 — not because of 
 any depression, but because of the huge influx of men intent on buy- 
 ing lots or looking to establishment of business after the tumult of 
 governmental and personally conducted auctions had died down. 
 These people were not the tyj)e to sit and wait for things to happen. 
 They were glad to do a day's work for a day's pay. 
 
 Within three weeks Ogden and Hale with their helpers had cleared 
 the fields of undergrowth, marked off the streets and lots, and were 
 ready for their customers. Will staked off the land for his own house 
 — he was no longer on "a journey of inspection" but had determined, 
 this early, come weal or woe, to be a Chicagoan. 
 
 The site of this mansion, a landmark until the Great Fire, was 
 bounded on the east by Rush Street, on the south by Ontario, on 
 the west by Cass, and on the north by Erie. Walter Newberry was 
 to build his home across the street on Rush, and St. James's Church 
 was soon to go up at Erie and Huron. Ogden, a genial understand- 
 ing mixer but never a boisterous glad-handcr, had in his first few 
 days of residence made friends of all the influential early Chi- 
 cagoans. Back in New York and Pennsylvania, men still had the 
 coolness and stand-ofiislincss of their English ancestors and cousins. 
 Ogdcn, thinking the matter over, could not recall a single fellow 
 member of the Legislature who had ever addressed him as "Will"; 
 here in Chicago, barely settled down, he was so addressed by men 
 who ten days ago had been unaware of his existence; and they ex- 
 pected him to so address them. First names and their abbreviations 
 were the badges of camaraderie among the argonauts who were pull- 
 ing this muddy village into a great outpost of empire. 
 
 On June 15, 1835, the government public auction sale of "canal 
 lands" began, the most important sections of which lay between 
 State Street and the lake, bounded on the north by Madison Street 
 and on the south by what appeared on the maps as Thirty-fifth 
 Street ; another important section of these public lands lay in the 
 bend of the Chicago River where the North Branch separated from 
 the South Branch, bounded on the south by Kinzie Street and on 
 the north by Chicago Avenue. The American Land Company's lots, 
 managed by Ogden, lav directly south of the above-mentioned "canal 
 
HIS HONOR THE MAYOR 31 
 
 land" bounded by Kinzie, Rush, Chicago Avenue, and State Street. 
 A further stretch of "canal land" adjoined Ogden's lots to the north, 
 bounded by Chicago Avenue, State Street, the lake, and North 
 Avenue. 
 
 The governmental auction sale, conducted by John Bates at his 
 place of business on the west side of Dearborn Street near Water, 
 brought in during the two weeks' sale a total of $354,278.57. Other 
 governmental sales made during this period through preemption laws 
 and private entry totaled $105,680.19. The average price of lots 
 was $100 as compared with $50 for the previous year. A good au- 
 gury for Will Ogden's enterprise. At his own sale, immediately fol- 
 lowing that of the government, he disposed of slightly more than a 
 third of the property for $78,000. That meant that Charles Butler 
 and he had cleared within $22,000 of the original investment and 
 commitment of $100,000 and still owned two-thirds of their acreage. 
 In a real-estate brokerage venture of his own, Will Ogden later took 
 into partnership a bright, aggressive, Pennsylvania youth, William 
 E. Jones. The firai called itself Ogden, Jones and Company, han- 
 dling the Butler land and further propert}^ investments of George 
 Bronson, who had originally sold the acreage to Charles Butler. 
 Bronson moved permanently to Chicago in the summer of 18.35 as 
 did Mahlon Ogden, Will's younger brother, who entered into a law 
 partnership with Isaac N. Arnold. Ogden, Jones and Compan}' later 
 became Ogden, Fleetwood and Company, then Ogden, Sheldon and 
 Companj', under which name it stiU operates In Chicago — the oldest 
 real-estate firm in the city, possibly the oldest in the country. 
 
 Eighteen thirtA'-five had been a boom year for Chicago, and 1836 
 seemed to be going even better. Excavation had been begun on the 
 state-financed Illinois and Michigan Canal, and Will Ogden, through 
 his now-trusted lieutenant, William Hale, had taken a contract for 
 a portion of the "ditch" which was to connect the lakes with the 
 Mississippi through the Illinois River and so, it was planned, make 
 Chicago the greatest supply and receiving mart in the country — 
 reachable wholly by water. 
 
 The most important event concerning the subsequent career of 
 William Butler Ogden — though he was quite unaware of it at the 
 time — occurred on January 16, 1836, when the Illinois Legislature 
 
82 MANOFVISION 
 
 ffrantcd a special cliartcr for the incorporation of the Galena and 
 Chicago Union Railroad to build a line out into the prairie country 
 toward the Mississippi "near the lead mines of Galena, Illinois and 
 Dubuque, Iowa." Thus the parent "germ" of the Chicago and North 
 Western Railway System. 
 
 At the first meeting of the incorporators, Theophilus W. Smith 
 was chosen president with the following Board of Directors: Ed- 
 mund D. Taylor, Josiah C. Goodhue, John T. Temple, Gregory 
 Smith, Ebcnezer Peck, and James H. Collins. The charter provided 
 for a railroad "from Galena in Jo Daviess County to the Town of 
 Chicago." The capital stock was fixed at one hundred thousand dol- 
 lars, and Section 7 provided that "if at any time after the passage 
 of this act it shall be deemed advisable by the directors of the said 
 corporation to make and construct a good and permanent turnpike 
 road upon any portion of the route of the railroad, then said direc- 
 tors are authorized and empowered to construct a turnpike . . . 
 and as many toll gates as shall be deemed necessary thereon." After 
 fixing the tolls for people, horses, oxen, and wagons, the directors 
 agreed that "sleighs used in summertime should be charged one-half 
 of the •winter price." 
 
 The directors, somewhat railroad-minded, were not as yet entirely 
 un-higliway-mindcd ! 
 
 In March, 1837, the town of Chicago, by act of the State Legisla- 
 ture, became a city, and its people looked around for their first 
 mayor. There were two candidates — John H. Kinzie, a son of the 
 original settler and first Indian agent — and William Butler Ogden. 
 The election was held May 2 in the then six wards of the new munici- 
 pality — and Ogden won easily. 
 
 He had accomplished tremendous things between the date of his 
 arrival in Chicago and his election as its first chief executive — two 
 brief, busy years. Looking back at the record it seems almost in- 
 credible that one man could crowd so much constructive activity into 
 such a short space of time. 
 
 He had succeeded in selling all the lots on the property he shared 
 •with Charles Butler; he was interested financially, as owner or as 
 partner, in other parcels of real estate to the north, south, east, and 
 west of the city; his firm represented many eastern holders of Chi- 
 
HISHONORTHEMAYOR 33 
 
 cago property. He had developed the construction portion of his busi- 
 ness so that he was laying out, paving, lengthening, and repairing 
 all of the streets that lay north of the Chicago River ; he built homes 
 through the length and breadth of the near North Side ; he was one 
 of the major contractors on the work of digging the Illinois and 
 Michigan Canal; he had, himself, designed and built the first floating 
 swing bridge over the river and he was to plan and construct many 
 more of these necessary aids to city traffic and enlargement ; he was 
 building Chicago's first large-size factory for Cyrus McCormick's 
 reaping and mowing machines ; he held the sales agency for McCor- 
 mick's inventions in the rapidly increasing farming communities to 
 the immediate west of the new city's limits. 
 
 An extremely busy man, you might say — aside from assuming the 
 duties of chief executive — and almost on the dot as he took his seat 
 the bubble burst ; the land boom of the Middle West crashed ! Up to 
 this time everything had been prosperous in the lake city ; all things 
 had seemed to point to even more prosperity. But a financial revul- 
 sion swept down with almost lightninglike speed upon the entii'e 
 country — on the heels of a four-year craze of speculation. Immigra- 
 tion to the West stopped overnight ; business stagnated ; city prop- 
 erty became almost worthless ; nobody wanted to buy, everybody 
 wanted to sell. 
 
 If Chicago awoke to find itself in a bad way, the state of Illinois 
 was in much worse shape — almost hopelessly in debt. The biggest 
 headache was the canal which was to provide the much vaunted 
 waterway from the lake, to the river, to the sea. Other state moneys 
 had been poured into disconnected and uncompleted portions of 
 railroads. Private insolvency was the rule rather than the exception. 
 Many farmers deserted their farms ; the state's debts pointed to 
 heavy taxation, the eventual loss of their property if they remained. 
 Shutters went up on scores of Chicago stores ; the operators of 
 others took what they could lay their hands on and departed. The 
 state of Mississippi repudiated her debts, and in the Illinois Legisla- 
 ture there was a strong bloc that sought to solve the Illinois problem 
 in the same fashion. The cry "repudiation" spread through the coun- 
 try, got its hold on Chicago. A crowd stormed into the office of 
 Mayor Ogden demanding that he urge "relief laws" on the Lcgisla- 
 
Ji M A N O !■■ V I S I O N 
 
 turo, tliat tla- local courts .susjjcnd compulsory fulfillment of cuf^agu- 
 ments, tliat a moratorium be declared on delinquent taxes. 
 
 "Citizens of Chicago," said the mayor after his raised arms and 
 his commanding presence had brought silence to the angry throng, 
 "do not commit the folly of proclaiming your own dishonor. Many 
 a fortress has been saved by the courage of its inmates and their 
 determination to conceal its weakened condition. Let our real state 
 be known, and destruction will be inevitable and immediate. Above 
 all things, do not tarnish the honor of this infant city." 
 
 Somebody cheered; the crowd departed, a few of them repeating 
 his words, "The honor of this city !" 
 
 And Mayor Ogden, at the time he spoke Ills brave words, was 
 hardly more solvent than the most harassed debtor in his audience! 
 
 He had laid streets — and had not been paid for his work; but his 
 workmen had been paid. He had dug part of the uncompleted canal, 
 and the state had no money to give him ; but he had paid his diggers. 
 He had built McCormick's factory, and the farmers who bought the 
 machines had been unable to make their payments ; but the carpen- 
 ters and the bricklayers had got their money from him, day and date. 
 He had houses a-building — and those who had commissioned him to 
 erect them had no money with which to pay him. Charles Butler, 
 his faitli in Chicago's future still unswerving, had denuded himself 
 of all liis profits, tossed them back into the tottering venture. 
 
 As the last of the crowd disappeared through the doors of his 
 office, the mayor of Chicago wearily picked up a sheet of figures. He 
 could quit his adopted city, penniless. He could go back to his saw- 
 mill by the Delaware River, still efficiently operated by Cousin 
 George Weed. Business was not as good as it had been in Walton, 
 but the eastern lumber market had not been hit as had other markets. 
 
 Go back and take it easy and stare across the river — at what 
 might have been ! 
 
 The mayor walked to a window of his office — a window which gave 
 him a view of the four corners of Clark and Lake streets. What he 
 could see of the river was almost empty of vessels. Yesterday a ship 
 from Buff'alo carrying 700 barrels of flour had come into port. This 
 morning it had gone back East, still loaded. Nobody in Chicago had 
 the price of a shipload of flour. Below him the streets were deserted. 
 
HISHONORTHEMAYOR 35 
 
 The angry debtors had dispersed to their homes — to worry over the 
 future, to thinii over what he had told them. 
 
 "I told them to have faith" — Will Ogden was talking to himself — 
 "how do I dare let other thoughts enter my head !" 
 
 He stepped to an outer office where William Hale was poring over 
 his canal contract accounts. 
 
 "William," said the mayor, "the James Madison will be pulling 
 out of here for Buffalo this evening; I want you to go to Walton with 
 all speed with a letter to ray cousin, which I shall now write. I want 
 him to raise every penny he can on my properties there — and as 
 quickly as he can. Stay there till he gets it. He has my power of 
 attorney. Then rush back here with a letter of credit for the full 
 amount." 
 
 "Why, Mr. Mayor," said Hale, "that's your nest egg, isn't it? 
 Are you going to toss it all into the pot.'"' 
 
 "My nest egg is here in Chicago, William," said the maj-or with a 
 smile. "But right now it needs some mothering, if it is going to hatch." 
 
 Depressions come and go in this land of ours ; always we man- 
 age in some fashion to rise superior to them; and it was so with the 
 panic and ensuing depression of 1837. Seventy-eight bushels of wheat 
 went out of Chicago in the year of 1838; but there were more than 
 3,700 bushels shipped out in 1839. In 18-15 more than a million 
 bushels were exported from the city, and that amount was doubled 
 in the following year. In 1837 the harbor of Chicago exported to 
 the value of but eleven hundred dollars. In 1846, 2,790 vessels ar- 
 rived in port carrying merchandise valued at $4,938,000. 
 
 As the depression receded and as Will Ogden cleared the mortgage 
 on his loved eastern home, the products of the richest agricultural 
 portion of the Middle West poured into Chicago, bound for the 
 hungry markets to the East — wheat, flour, corn, oats, and meat. 
 Not a bushel of wheat went out of Chicago in 1836 ; but ten years 
 later the amount exported was 2,160,000 bushels, one-quarter of 
 which went directly to Europe. Four years later Chicago became 
 the country's foremost market in the handling of meat and lumber. 
 
 Jonathan Young Scammon, known to his intimates as "J. Young," 
 a big, jovial, bearded "down-Easterner" — he was born in Maine — 
 
36 MANOFVISION 
 
 tiinifd in at Hil- jrato of William Butler O/jfk'ii'.s home on Ontario 
 Street one bright November morning of 18-i5 and caught Ogden as 
 he was coming through the front door on his way to his offices at 
 Clark and Madison streets. They walked along together, crossing 
 the river on Mr. Ogden's Clark Street bridge. 
 
 J. Young Scammon was a man after Will Ogden's heart ; they 
 were cast, you might say, in something of the same mold. The Scam- 
 mons were early Irish settlers. J. Young's father, a fanner, was 
 also a member of the Maine State Legislature and planned to have 
 his son follow in his steps. But at the age of fourteen the boy lost 
 two fingers of his left hand in an accident. 
 
 "You'll be no use for farming, son," said Eliakim Scammon. 
 "Guess you'll have to make a lawyer out of yourself." 
 
 So J. Young attended college at Waterville, Maine, but failed to 
 graduate because of lack of means, his father's ambitions for him 
 being slightly ahead of the capacity of his purse. In 1832, when he 
 was twenty years of age, he apprenticed himself to Lawyer John Otis 
 of Hallowell, taught school as a means of subsistence, and was ad- 
 mitted to the bar in 1835. 
 
 He had heard of Chicago and there he planned to go — to the fan- 
 tasticalh' sprouting village by the shores of Lake Michigan. In Sep- 
 tember, 1835 — six months after W'ill Ogden had made a similar 
 journey with far brighter prospects — Scammon arrived at Newberry 
 and Dole's wharf aboard the good ship Erie Canal with his lawyer's 
 certificate and ten dollars. Chicago needed about everything — and 
 among its most pressing needs were bright young lawyers, A week 
 after his arrival, with his bill at Mark Bcaubien's Sauganash House 
 his chief worry, he was appointed deputy clerk of the Circuit Court. 
 
 Inside of a year Scammon had entered practice in partnership 
 with Morris Buckner. Branching out of his profession, while still 
 retaining an active interest in it, he went into real estate on a shoe- 
 string, reaped a fortune, and lost it. He regained it, lost it in a 
 series of newspaper ventures ; regained it in railroad investment, man- 
 agement, and organization; lost it again in the Chicago Fire. A 
 third time he regained it in real estate, lost it for the last time in 
 bank failures. He died in 1890 at the age of seventy-eight — broke. 
 
 J. Young Scammon was one of the most popular of the early Chi- 
 cago pioneers, whether luck was with him or against him. A genial, 
 
HISHONORTHEMAYOR 37 
 
 hearty man, deeply religious, his mistakes were his own, and he shoul- 
 dered them ; they were largely due to his intense enthusiasm over the 
 city of his adoption. He made several fortunes easily and seemed 
 to lose them just as easily. He was the earliest advocate of free 
 schools, a founder of the Chicago Historical Society, an organizer 
 of — and generous donor to, when he had it — the University of Chi- 
 cago. 
 
 As Ogden and liis ebullient friend strolled over the Clark Street 
 bridge, Scammon observed, "Those farmers out Kockford way want 
 that railroad plan revived." 
 
 "You mean the Galena and Chicago Union," said Ogden. "I've 
 been giving that matter some thought myself. Been interested in it 
 ever since it was started and ever since it flopped." 
 
 "Sort of figured you were," said Scammon. "They're calling a 
 meeting in Rockford for the twenty-eighth. They've asked me to go 
 along and they also asked me to find out if you would come with me." 
 
 "I certainly will," replied Ogden, "That link with Chicago is long 
 overdue." 
 
Cl 
 
 2(7 pier 6 
 
 G A L E N A — r R A I R I E CAPITAL 
 
 Let's talk of Galena, with whicli William Butler Of^den had de- 
 cided Chicaijo should be linked in the first railroad of the city of his 
 adoption. 
 
 Years before the first settlers trickled into nortliern Illinois, the 
 district around Galena had been explored. Hennepin's map of 1687 
 locates a lead mine on the present site of the city, and French trad- 
 ers were reported buying lead in quantity from the Indians in 1690.* 
 
 In 1819 an expedition of eight boats carrying a hundred slaves, 
 in charge of Colonel R. M. Johnson, left St. Louis and after a voy- 
 age of twenty days reached the site of Galena. Colonel Johnson made 
 a permanent treaty with the Indians for permission to mine the lead. 
 It took him about two years to get started, but by 1821 he was mov- 
 ing lead in quantity. Between 1821 and 1823 he shipped an aggre- 
 gate of 335,000 pounds a year; this went to 5,000,000 pounds in 
 1827 and in 1829 to 13,34-i,150 pounds.f 
 
 In 1824) a store was opened in the village, and the first colony of 
 white settlers arrived. This colony was under the command of Dr. 
 Meeker and hailed from Cincinnati. They came on a keelboat, and 
 the journey took sixty days. The opening of the store made Galena 
 in a way independent of Peoria, to which one had had to go previ- 
 ously to purchase necessities. 
 
 Immigration now flowed in rapidly, and mining camps were opened 
 at Shullsburg, East Fork, and New Diggings. In April of 1826 more 
 than two hundred men were digging in the vicinity of Galena. That 
 number had increased to more than four hundred by June. In the 
 
 * Thwaites, R. G., Notes on Early Lead ^finiiu). Pujiers Collected by Wisconsin 
 State Historienl Society. 
 
 t "Illinois nnd Her Restnirces," Iliiiifs ^Terrhaiits' Mar/atlnc, 1888. 
 ;i8 
 
GALENA PRAIRIE CAPITAL 39 
 
 entire adjacent mining teri-itory it was estimated that 1,600 men 
 were at work. 
 
 The fame of the lead mines spread abroad, and immigrants poured 
 in, mostly from southwestern England, where the famed lead mines 
 were beginning to show signs of petering out. In 1826 the maj'or of 
 Galena reported that the town had "twenty cabins and 550 inhabi- 
 tants." In 1827 his report showed 100 houses and stores and "be- 
 tween six and seven thousand people residing in the district." The 
 immigrants were in the majorit}' Cornishmen, and the balance was 
 about equally divided between native-born Americans, Frenchmen, 
 and Irishmen. The Winnebago War of 1827 sent the miners in the 
 outlying regions scurrying to the shelter of Galena where they were 
 bottled up for three months ; with peace they scattered again to the 
 diggings. 
 
 That same 3'ear Jo Daviess Count}' was organized, the town of 
 Galena was surveyed and divided into lots. Though organized as a 
 county of Illinois, the settlers were not enthusiastic about this al- 
 legiance; they wanted to form a state of their own and in 1828 peti- 
 tioned Congress that a section noii:h of the line of 1787 be organized 
 into a territory, with Galena as the seat of government. Nothing was 
 done, but in the forties the northern counties of Illinois tried again 
 to separate. The boundary question was thereupon settled on the 
 present line. 
 
 The lead-region population increased amazingly, and with this out- 
 side impetus Galena grew as the market place and the base of supplies. 
 In 1830, when the Illinois and Michigan Canal Commission, empow- 
 ered by the Legislature to proceed, employed James Thompson to 
 "plat a town to be called Chicago" Galena was already incorporated 
 and boasted some 900 residents, "a most singular and mysterious 
 medley of people from all quarters of the eai'th seeking wealth." * 
 
 In 1832 the special correspondent of the Baltimore American esti- 
 mated the populace at "from five to seven thousand inhabitants." At 
 this time the most optimistic of Chicagoans figured their strength at 
 250 people. Galena grew, a prosperous mercantile headquarters in 
 the middle of a far-flung mining region. "For miles around," stated 
 
 ' Reynolds, IlUtory of Illinois, 1871. 
 
40 MANOFVISION 
 
 Nilcs's licgistcr, "tho region wiis dotted with :uining camps and trad- 
 ing posts." 
 
 In 1832 came the Black Hawk War, and the out-of-town miners 
 were scurrying once again to the shelter of the city. But the Battle 
 of Bad Axe forever broke the power of the Sac and Fox Indians, and 
 when, by the ensuing treaty, the Indians were removed beyond the 
 Mississippi, the miners returned to their camps, as assured as were 
 the already advancing hordes of innnigrants on Chicago that "the 
 West was safe." 
 
 From this time on, Galena was slowly to lose the characteristics 
 of a frontier town. It began to dabble in varied industries, to acquire 
 a degree of culture. In 1830 it had five churches and a chapel, a 
 temperance society, a library association, a fire department, a 
 branch of the State Bank of Illinois ; there was an annual ball, han- 
 dled by the elite of lead-mining society; there was a sound, re- 
 spected newspaper, the Northwestern Gazette and Galena Advertiser. 
 
 In 1839, when William Butler Ogden was completing the last lap 
 of his term of office as Chicago's first mayor, the city of Galena 
 proper boasted 550 buildings, a population of 3,000, and an assessed 
 value of $1,700,000. Around the city, and dependent upon it for 
 trade and the necessaries for existence, were between eight and ten 
 thousand miners and their families. The Madison (Wisconsin) Ex- 
 press referred to Galena at this time as "the largest and most 
 flourishing city of the W^est, north of St. Louis." Its location was 
 peculiar, crowded together as were its houses on the edge of the 
 river bluffs. With a permanent resident list of around three thousand 
 the population always shifted with mine layoffs, new discoveries, and 
 the arrival and departure of immigrants ; idle miners, whether idle 
 by choice or otherwise, crowded into the town. The election officials 
 were always in a dither. As Niles's Register put it, "The inhabitants 
 shift about so from place to place, and so many of them live in the 
 holes and clefts of the rocks that it is difficult to say where they 
 belong." 
 
 As already told, the original charter of the Galena and Chicago 
 Union Railroad had been granted by the Illinois Legislature on 
 January 16, 1836. Work had been suspended in 1838 because of the 
 depression of the previous year. Eight more years were to elapse — 
 while the piles and stringers rotted on Chicago's Madison Street — 
 
GALENA PRAIRIE CAPITAL 41 
 
 before Ogden and his associates prodded the dream once more into 
 reahty. 
 
 Meantime Galena changed mightily. The Rock River Valley had 
 filled up with farmers; tariff regulations as well as thinning veins of 
 lead closed down the furnaces. Almost overnight, one might say, the 
 exportation of wheat took the place of the exportation of lead. Here, 
 too, was the most convenient trading post of the region. The amount 
 of exports in the forties was greater than that of any town adjacent 
 to the Mississippi above St. Louis, Thirty thousand families were 
 dependent upon Galena for their supplies of merchandise. Despite 
 the drop in lead and because of the increase in loads of wheat, 
 Galena's population practically doubled between 1839 and 1846, at 
 which latter date the railroad plan had again come to life. 
 
 In the period of its transition from frontier town to supply and 
 shipping headquarters for a rapidly growing agricultural com- 
 munity, Galena owed its good fortune to lack of any railroad com- 
 munication anywhere in the state and to the fact that it was perched 
 most strategically as regarded Its clientele, close to the greatest of 
 all waterways, in direct communication with the southern and for- 
 eign markets — for which it served as collector. Galena was also 
 the distributing point for supplies to the people of the Rock River 
 Valley brought up the river and so it remained until the Illinois Cen- 
 tral Railroad penetrated its sphere of influence and drained the 
 trade of the farming districts to the Great Lake port of Chicago. 
 Through a chain of circumstances, Ogden's Galena and Chicago 
 Union road was many years getting to Galena. 
 
 The Rock River Valley as of today is a question-mark-shaped 
 piece of land in northern Elinois, traversed north and south through 
 its center by the Rock River. The soldiers serving in the Black Hawk 
 War, the great majority of them from the eastern states, liked the 
 Rock River Valley. When they returned home they spread word of 
 the beauty of the country and the fertility of the soil; these sales 
 talks, combined with the signing of the peace and the expulsion of 
 the Indians, brought the vanguard of the New England and Middle 
 States pioneers to northern Illinois. 
 
 The northern portion of the valley, however, did not, during the 
 very early years, make as much headway as did the southern section 
 
MAN OF VISION 
 
 wlicre towns sucli as Fulton, Prophctstown, Sterling, Dixon, and 
 Oregon were founded. Rockford began its growth in 1835 and 
 moved quickly; inside of a jxar log cabins had been supplanted by 
 frame houses. During the same period many settlers came to Stephen- 
 son County, a majority of them lead miners from Galena who, be- 
 cause of the slump in lead production, had decided to become farm- 
 ers while good land was still available. The most important settle- 
 ment was Frecport, where fifty families established themselves in 
 1836. 
 
 This early period of settlement in the valley may be taken as 
 typical of the progress of settlement into a new country. The river 
 served as the highway of communication with the outer world ; the 
 two great roads through the valley, the one crossing the river at 
 Dixon, the other at Rockford, also played their part. Gradually the 
 filling-in process took place, and numerous smaller towns dotted 
 the banks of the river. Along the two great wagon roads, settlements 
 were also found, but these were not to develop even into villages until 
 the railroads came. 
 
 The towns, so far, had shown no signs of becoming cities and were 
 not to make rapid strides for another decade. The reason was simple. 
 Lines of transportation were not developed, save a poor one on the 
 Rock River. Lack of transportation facilities cause a lack of mar- 
 kets, and since good markets help in the development of an agricul- 
 tural district and are dependent upon this development for support, 
 it seems that the jjroblem of transportation was to be the key to the 
 situation. In the interacting influences of agriculture and steam 
 was to be found the solution of the prairie problem. 
 
 Other conditions unfavorable to the rapid settling of the country 
 also prevailed. Markets were scarce. The Rock River man was com- 
 pelled to cart his produce to Galena or Savanna, on the Mississippi 
 River, or to Chicago if he had a great quantity to sell. The expense 
 of transportation taken in connection with the value of his time left 
 little or no reward for the farmer who journeyed to market. To 
 Galena was a trip of a week or more; to Chicago, anywhere from 
 fourteen to twenty days; and after arriving, his wheat was worth 
 but forty or fifty cents a bushel. 
 
 In spite of these drawbacks there was a Rock River immigration 
 fever prevalent in many parts of the country, and settlers poured in 
 
GALENA PRAIRIE CAPITAL 43 
 
 and scattered themselves along the timbered portions until in 1840 
 the population of the valley had reached 21,500. After 18-i3 the 
 country filled up with amazing rapidity and by 18-18 had in it over 
 66,000 settlers. 
 
 This great increase may be attributed to several causes. The Rock 
 River country was known as a place of extraordinary facilities for 
 agriculture. Those coming during the period previous to 184i3 had 
 sent extremely favorable reports to the East, and naturally others 
 followed the lead of the pioneers. The financial chaos was over, and 
 money was again becoming plentiful. Illinois began to regain her 
 good name, lost with the breaking down of her internal improvement 
 scheme, and her half-notion of repudiation of her debts. Heavy taxes, 
 too, had kept many away, but with the reestablishment of the state 
 finances upon a firm and honorable basis, immigration began anew. 
 Finally the railroad through from Chicago to Galena was promised 
 and before the close of the decade seemed an assured fact. Many 
 flocked to the neighborhood of its route, seeing its value as a market 
 maker. 
 
 Rockford was the metropolis of the northern prairies and enjoyed 
 the most rapid and steady growth of any of the towns along the 
 river. The Winnebago farmers were acquiring wealth and were abun- 
 dantly satisfied with their circumstances. They possessed livestock 
 valued at almost $270,000 in 18-18 and during the preceding year 
 had produced 786,000 bushels of small grain, a remarkable develop- 
 ment when one stops to think that fifteen years before there were no 
 farms under cultivation in the county. 
 
 Stephenson County more than kept pace with Winnebago during 
 the decade, receiving about 1,700 more settlers than did the latter 
 county and reaching a total population of 11,666. As Rockford was 
 the center of the agricultural district of W'innebago County, so was 
 Freeport of Stephenson County. It was situated on the Galena-Chi- 
 cago state road along which the proposed railroad was to be built. 
 Its growth was as yet retarded by the fact that supplies were car- 
 ried from Galena to stock its stores, but the energy and hopefulness 
 of the settlers helped to build it up and give it a prominence in the 
 district which was to be increased when steam traffic was finally a 
 reality. Scattered along the line of the proposed railroad were small 
 settlements patiently awaiting the time when they, too, by the aid 
 
44 MANOFVISION 
 
 of steam, would become markets for agricultural produce and derive 
 benefit from the products of the country'. 
 
 To tlie north and south of the railroad line, wherever a patch of 
 timber gave shelter from the heat of summer and the cold winds of 
 winter, there could be found a settler's cabin, and before the end of 
 the period every available bit of timber had been claimed. The farm- 
 ers owned $32(5,000 worth of livestock, and produced 759,000 bushels 
 of small grain in 1850. The prairies were, however, still unsubdued 
 if we may judge from the amount of unimproved land at this date, 
 there being 123,300 acres not yet under cultivation and only 76,300 
 cultivated. Low prices alone worked to destroy the prosperity of the 
 farmer, and when not long afterwards a remedy was applied, the 
 advance made by the district was a rapid one. 
 
 All this, past, present, and expected future, was crystal-clear to 
 William Butler Ogden when he and his associates decided in the fall 
 of IS-IS to try to make the Galena and Chicago Union Railroad 
 dream a reality and so run the first railroad train out of Chicago. 
 
 At the expiration of his term as mayor in 1839 he had again 
 picked up his contracting and real-estate business, delegated to 
 associates during the period of his civic duties. He began building 
 the town of Peshtigo on Green Bay as the center of his rapidly ex- 
 tending Wisconsin lumber interests. He took on contracts for the 
 building of West Side streets in addition to his North Side activities 
 of a similar nature. He was appointed president of the Board of 
 Sewerage Commissioners, was extremely active in the advocacy of 
 public parks and recreation centers, and served two terms as a mem- 
 ber of the State Legislature. 
 
 Despite his varied interests, Ogden during this period — from 1839 
 to 184'5 — found time to gather together the finest library in Chicago, 
 housed in his home ; he also collected statuarj' and paintings. In the 
 milder seasons he devoted himself to his immense flower garden. His 
 was a familiar figure during planting time when, driving a horse and 
 wagon, he would jog into the country to spend hours digging up wild 
 flowering shrubs and vines which he transplanted personally to his 
 own garden. His collection of books, paintings, and statuary was 
 completely destroyed in the Great Fire. 
 
..^^r- -'"'-■ ■ '.i^^-^^' 
 
 J/ art f^u 
 
 i^O 
 
 PIONEER RAILROAD 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter 6 
 
 THE BIRTH OF A RAILROAD 
 
 William Butler Ogdex was sick abed — the doctor diagnosed his 
 trouble as a fever-cold with pneumonic possibilities — when the first 
 public meeting looking to the resuscitation of the Galena and Chi- 
 cago Union Railroad was held at Rockford on November 28, 1845. 
 His friend, J. Young Scammon, was there, however, and pledged on 
 Ogden's behalf his fullest support for the plan. At this meeting 
 delegates were selected from Winnebago County, and a similar pro- 
 cedure was later carried out in those other northern Illinois counties 
 through which the road would pass. The delegates from Cliicago 
 (Cook County) were chosen December 5 at a meeting in the Saloon 
 Building, presided over by Mayor Garrett. These were William But- 
 ler Ogden, J. B. Russell, John B. Turner, J. Young Scammon, B. W. 
 Raymond, Isaac N. Arnold, Walter L. Newberry, and General Hart 
 L. Stewart. A convention date was set for January 7, 1846, at Rock- 
 ford. 
 
 The Cook County delegates made their journey in Scammon's 
 commodious coach over the Galena-Chicago state road, which was 
 considered quite a highway despite its enormous ruts and occasional 
 planking. It was a mild winter, and the party made good progress 
 completing the journey in two days, stopping overnight at Elgin 
 where practically the entire populace of the hamlet crowded into 
 the common room seeking news of the projected railroad and to stare 
 at the men from Chicago, which city someone present referred to 
 as "an octopus" — probably the very first of the numerous occasions 
 on which the epithet has been hurled at the Lady of the Lakes. 
 
 The landlord set the table for his guests (Scammon, in his delight- 
 ful notes on the occasion, has failed to pass along the name of this 
 boniface or even the name of his inn). As he slapped down food and 
 
 ■17 
 
•tS PIONEERRAILROAD 
 
 (Iriiik, tlio hiii(iIoi-d told the delegates what he thouglit of their plans. 
 
 "I'm agin all railroads. There's your roast beef rare, IMr. Ogden. 
 Help yourself to the cabbage and potatoes. Railroads is bad for 
 hotelkeepers and bad for farmers, only farmers ain't got the sense 
 to know it — yet. They'll find out, Mr. Scainmon. There's your roast 
 beef well done; that's the way we'll all be when you gentlemen get 
 through — well done. Oh, it's fine for the big fellows at both ends — 
 in Galena and in Chicago. But what you're going to do is dry up all 
 the little places in between, like Elgin. Just whiz by, pay us no at- 
 tention, and let us rot." 
 
 "Your farm produce has got to be sent to market," observed 
 Ogden, "and they need some of this fine beef in Chicago. You can't 
 cat it all yourselves now." 
 
 "Them's fine words," continued the landlord as the people of Elgin 
 listened and signified approval of their champion. "There's your 
 steak. General, cooked to a cinder like you asked for it. Reach for 
 the vegetables. What I say is these farming folks pass through here 
 on their way to market, be it Galena or Chicago ; and they stop and 
 eat and drink. Sometimes they need beds." 
 
 "Instead of just passing through, tired and, I admit, hungry," 
 observed Scammon, "they'll come here and stop to load their produce 
 on the cars. They'll get their money here in Elgin instead of having 
 to jog miles on miles to the market. They'll be happy instead of worn 
 out ; they'll have money in their pockets and instead of spending it 
 in Galena or Chicago, they will spend it or invest it right here in 
 Elgin. The cities will benefit through redistribution of the products. 
 Elgin, and places like Elgin, will benefit from speedy distribution 
 from the wholesale to the retail market." 
 
 "He's talking sense," observed someone at the back of the throng. 
 "I wasted all of two months last year getting my oats to Chicago." 
 
 "That's right," agreed Scammon, "and when the road comes 
 through, you just stay around here on your farm." 
 
 "That's as may be," said the landlord, still surly. "You folks will 
 make money while the road is a-building and then you'll sell out to 
 those big bugs in New York and Philadelphia." 
 
 Ogden stood up. 
 
 "Friends," he said, "we might just as well make one point clear 
 right now. We are on our way to the Rockford convention where I 
 
THEBIRTHOFARAILROAD 49 
 
 hope to find a broader outlook than that mistakenly held by this 
 gentleman. If this plan goes ahead the money for it will come from 
 your pockets — " 
 
 "That's just as I was sayin' — " interrupted the landlord. 
 
 " — just a minute till I finish," Ogden cut in. "When I say j'ou will 
 furnish the money, I mean of course that you will not furnish it until 
 you are convinced of the soundness of our plans. And when you 
 furnish the money, you will own the railroad ; you, the farmers and 
 the businessmen of the section of country through which it will be 
 run. I pledge you my word of honor and the word of honor of these 
 gentlemen from Cook County with me that no eastern capitalists or 
 foreign money will be gathered for the purpose of the road so long 
 as I and these associates of mine have anything to do with the ven- 
 ture. It will either be your road and Chicago's and Galena's road or, 
 for me, there will be no road." 
 
 "That's talking, Mr. Ogden," shouted the farmer who had had 
 trouble with his oats. "Put me down for a share." 
 
 Other voices joined his. 
 
 "I'll come in, too." 
 
 "We know Mr. Ogden around here." 
 
 "Anything's better than that state road." 
 
 "Take 3'our time," laughed Ogden. "Wait till the convention is 
 over and you see the new prospectus. Keep your money till we come 
 round to call on you." 
 
 "Pie, gentlemen?" the landlord asked placatingly. "Cherry pie.-"' 
 
 Three hundred and nineteen delegates from the counties of north- 
 ern Illinois along the proposed route of the Galena and Chicago 
 Union Railroad attended the Rockford convention which was pre- 
 sided over by Thomas Drummond, a Galena lawyer. It was an enthu- 
 siastic meeting, for missionary work similar to that done by Ogden 
 in Elgin had apparently swung the farmers to the idea of a railroad 
 of their own connecting their two great marts, Chicago and Galena. 
 
 J. Young Scammon made a report on the present condition of the 
 road as begun by a survey in February, 1837, by engineer James 
 Seymour. This survey had covered the proposed line from the foot 
 of Dearborn Street in Chicago to a point on the Des Plaines River 
 
'lONKKn RAILItOAD 
 
 now occupied l)v the town of Maywooil. In .rune, after only four 
 months of work, ull Imnds were laid off as a result of the panic. 
 
 In Xoveniber, 1837, President Theophilus W. Smith was succeeded 
 hy youthful Elijah Kent Hubbard; piles were laid along Madison 
 Sti'eet as far as Halsted, and stringers placed on top of them. By 
 fall of that year, with business and financial conditions still bad, 
 Hubbard halted work again. However, he carried out the provisions 
 of the charter and kept the company alive by holding yearly meet- 
 ings until IS-t-t, at each of which he was elected president. He passed 
 on at the early age of twenty-six. 
 
 In 1845 the charter of the road "and all property owned by the 
 corporation" was purchased by Elisha Townsend of New York and 
 Tiiomas Mather of Springfield. Diligent search fails to show exactly 
 how these two gentlemen secured the rights to the road and its physi- 
 cal assets. W. H. Stennett, in his history of the Chicago and North 
 Western Railway system called Yesterday and Today, says the sale 
 was accomplished "in some now unknown way." The probabilities 
 arc that Mather in Springfield had wind of interest in Chicago re- 
 garding revival of the project, got in touch with Townsend, a mon- 
 eyed man, and — between them and for a consideration — they were 
 enabled to jump the gun. However, Mather and Townsend wei'e not 
 unfair in the proposal they authorized Mr. Scammon to make to the 
 Rockford convention. They were willing to turn over the charter 
 and all the property for 200 shares in the revived corporation — 
 100 down on completion of the bargain and 100 if and when the 
 railroad reached the Fox River. The original capitalization had 
 been one hundred thousand dollars, divided into 1,000 shares of one 
 hundred dollars each. 
 
 All that the company had to show for this, at the time of the con- 
 vention, was the offer of sale for the equivalent of twenty thousand 
 dollars in stock, the rotting construction along Madison Street, and 
 940 acres of timbered land along the Des Plaines River near Ma}'- 
 wood. Of course nobody present at the convention could peer far 
 enough and clearly enough into the future to know that these 940 
 acres were eventually going to be worth far, far more than the old 
 capitalization of the road plus the recapitalization. Referring to 
 these wooded acres, ]Mr. Scammon merely observed that they would 
 
THEBIRTHOFARAILROAD 51 
 
 supply fuel foi- the engines "for many years to come" as well as ties 
 and timber for construction. 
 
 At the conclusion of Scammon's address, Walter Newberry offered 
 this resolution : 
 
 If a satisfactory arrangement, as stated, can be made with the present 
 holders of the stock of the Galena and Chicago Union Railroad Company, 
 the members of this convention will use all honorable measures to obtain 
 subscriptions to the stock of said company. 
 
 The resolution was adopted by an overwhelming vote as was the 
 succeeding resolution, proposed by Scammon : 
 
 Resolved: That the wants of the farmers and businessmen of northern 
 Illinois require the immediate construction of a railroad from Galena 
 to Chicago. That the value of farms along the route would be doubled 
 by the construction of the road and the convenience of the inhabitants 
 immeasurably profited thereby. 
 
 Resolved: That in order to accomplish the object of this convention, 
 it is indispensably necessary that the inhabitants and owners of property 
 between Galena and Chicago should come forward and subscribe to the 
 stock of the proposed railroad to the extent of their ability; and that 
 if each farmer upon the route shall take at least one share of the stock 
 (one hundred dollars) the completion of the road would be placed beyond 
 contingency. 
 
 This resolution too was vociferously and overwhelmingly passed. 
 The convention gave authority for making the necessary arrange- 
 ments with Townsend and Mather and for the opening of subscrip- 
 tion books at Chicago and Galena. The lowest down payment on a 
 share of stock was set at $2.50. Will Ogden volunteered to person- 
 ally canvass the residents of all the settlements through which the 
 road would pass. Temporary Chairman Drummond announced that 
 he would be stock salesman for Galena; J. Young Scammon took 
 over the job for Chicago ; all three stated that they would serve with- 
 out salary or commission, and pay their own expenses. 
 
 At a meeting held in Chicago on February 17, William Butler 
 Ogden was elected president of the reorganized Galena and Chicago 
 Union Railroad Company, Francis Howe was appointed secretary, 
 and the following elected directors : William H. Brown, AV alter L. 
 
a'Z PIONEEKHAILKOAD 
 
 Newberry, Thomas Dyer, J. Young Scanimon, Clmrlcs Walker, and 
 James H. Collins. All these six men were Chicago pioneers, and to 
 their number was added, in the following September, John B. Turner 
 of Cliicago, Benjamin W. Raymond of Chicago, C. S. Hempstead of 
 Galena, Thomas Drummond of Galena, Elihu Washburne of Galena, 
 W. N. Davis of Au Sable Grove, Allen Robbins of New York. (Al- 
 though there is no documentary evidence to this effect, Robbins is 
 believed to have represented the interests of Townsend and Mather 
 on the Board.) 
 
 "All that we have to do now. Will, before we get started laying 
 track," observed Scammon as he and Ogdcn were leaving the Saloon 
 Building after the election, "is to gather in the money. Between the 
 three of us — Drummond, you and me — you've got the toughest 
 job." 
 
 Scammon was wrong — as concerned both Chicago and Galena. 
 Canvassing his own city steadily for a year he succeeded in selling 
 only twenty thousand dollars' worth of stock, or 200 shares, outside 
 of what had been taken up by the local directors. Isaac N. Arnold, 
 in one of the numerous papers that he read to the Chicago Histori- 
 cal Society after he had retired from law practice and politics to 
 devote himself to writing of the early days, had this to say of Scam- 
 mon's failure : 
 
 Chicago was a small and ambitious city. It had three divisions occa- 
 sioned by the river and its north and south branches which run almost at 
 right angles with the main river leaving, east of them, the north and 
 south divisions and, west of them, the west division extending the whole 
 length of the city. Such divisions always create local jealousies and the 
 selfish interests excited are often difficult to manage or control. 
 
 Mr. Ogden resided on the north side of the river, as did three other 
 directors, Walter Newberry, Thomas Dyer, and John B. Turner. Mr. 
 Ogdcn was especially identified with the north side and he was accused 
 by those who never suppose other than solely selfish motives can influence 
 action of "wanting to build a railroad that would never pay, to help 
 him sell his lots." Naturally the gentlemen of the north side desired the 
 road to cross the north branch and locate its depots or stations in the 
 north division; while the west-sidcrs could see no necessity of expending 
 money to cross the river because the west side was the largest division 
 of the city and the nearest to the country. 
 
THEBIRTHOFARAILROAD 53 
 
 But if Scammon fell short of his objective in Chicago, he made 
 good a^ an assistant to Ogden in sale of stock to farmers, to which 
 job he turned when he found his own field almost arid. Outside of his 
 own purchases and those of his fellow Galena directors — C. M. 
 Hempstead and Elihu Washburne — Drummond disposed of barely 
 fifteen thousand dollars' worth of stock to the people of his city. 
 Scammon comes forward with an explanation :* 
 
 At Galena businessmen and bankers were fearful of the effect of the 
 railroad on their town. It had long been prosperous at the head of navi- 
 gation on Fever River (which ran from the Mississippi) and as the great 
 lead-mining center and mercantile distributor for northwest Illinois and 
 southwest Wisconsin and the country north of the mines. 
 
 The great obstacles met there were two: one, the local effect upon the 
 town, and the other, the fear that before the road should be completed 
 the enterprise would break down, the small stockholders would be sacri- 
 ficed and the road would pass into the hands of the large capitalists. 
 
 So it was to the farmers and the villagers of the region that the 
 organizers of the road had to turn for the money with which to start 
 their enterprise, and their ambassador was William Butler Ogden. 
 
 He had gone back to horseback riding on this new mission of his — 
 the selling of a railroad to the farmers and to the people of the 
 little places that were cropping up over a far-flung, widely scattered 
 territory. He knew riding was good for the figure, and so Will Ogden 
 would jog along. He was forty-two years of age now and getting a 
 trifle heavy of late ; still he was an imposing, handsome man — trim, 
 clear-eyed, with few gray hairs. He was still a bachelor, though many 
 a pretty woman had set her cap at him, only to give it up at long 
 last while wondering what could be the matter. Isaac Arnold could 
 have told them, so could Arthur Bronson or Charles Butler or Mah- 
 lon Ogden ; but men had not the habit of gossiping of such things in 
 those daj's. 
 
 Through the summer and fall of 1846, through spring and sum- 
 mer of 1847, he rode the length and breadth of the ten counties. In 
 the second period of his missions, Young Scammon had picked up a 
 portion of the burden ; the going had become a little easier then, and 
 
 • Andreas, A. T., Hintory of Chicago, R. R. Donnelley & Sons Company, Chi- 
 cago, 1885. 
 
r>i I' I O N E li K n A 1 L li O A D 
 
 tlic responses perked up tlie Ijeardid lawyer whose Cliicafro moncv- 
 raisiiig experiences had left him a bit downhearted. But all in all it 
 had been quite a job; in his wildest dreams AVill Ogden had never 
 visioned himself as a stock salesman. But he had made a record, the 
 story of which had filtered through to the great money marts of 
 the East. Erastus Corning, president of the New York Central, con- 
 trolling spirit in the Michigan Central, the only railroad in con- 
 struction west of Lake Erie, had written Ogden asking him to become 
 associated with his interests. 
 
 "A man who can gather up more than three hundred thousand 
 dollars from a bunch of backwoodsmen!" exclaimed Corning when he 
 heard about it. "I need him !" 
 
 And William F. Weld, the Boston "Railroad King," who grabbed 
 chunks of roads wherever he caught the glinmier of a bright future, 
 had written : "If you need money I'm ready to come in." 
 
 But Will Ogden didn't need an eastern stock-selling job and he 
 didn't need any eastern capital — not now. He had sold the farmers 
 a farmer's railroad — a farm-to-market road. He had told them it 
 would be slow going, but that it would be built with their money and 
 the money of no other people; of course Chicago and Galena could 
 still come in with more money if they felt better about things, a little 
 more optimistic. Will Ogden wanted to build as the money came in, 
 in driblets; ten miles at a time, maybe twenty, maybe thirty. All 
 right, pay as you go and build as the money comes ; no debts, no bor- 
 rowings, and if there are profits over and above a trifle of a dividend 
 then toss them back into the road. 
 
 He had slept in rude cabins, in lowly farmhouses, in tents, and 
 more than once of a summer night, by the roadside, wrapped in a 
 blanket, his horse hobbled near by. The job on the whole had been 
 much easier than he had thought at first, particularly after the bad 
 news from Chicago and Galena. These farmers, these villagers had 
 met him more than halfway ; they wanted this road once they got 
 the idea — and they grasped it with surprising mental agility. There 
 was, in many cases, the question of monej' down; some of them had 
 it, many had not. The way they lived they could get along for quite 
 a spell without cash, and when they got it they were in the habit of 
 slapping it right back into stock and seed and suchlike. Many times 
 Ogden loaned a first payment on crop prospects. 
 
THE BIRTH OF A RAILROAD 
 
 During his campaign over those two years lie liad a big liand in 
 the taming of the prairies. He found his farmer clients were in great 
 measure using wooden plows, and they clustered around bottom land 
 because, as they told Ogden, their instruments of tillage could not 
 break through the tough buffalo grass to get to the good earth below. 
 John Deere, inventor of the steel plow, had recently settled in Moline, 
 where he opened a small factory. Apparently operating on the prin- 
 ciple of the old adage about the better mousetrap, Deere waited for 
 his customers instead of going to them. While selling railroad stock. 
 Will Ogden also sold — without remuneration — the Deere steel plow. 
 In the Chicago area he still held a selling franchise for the McCor- 
 mick mowers and reapers. He showed the farmers how they could 
 take on more acreage, make more money, buy more "Galena" stock, 
 by personally demonstrating the superiority of steel over wood on 
 presumably unbreakable land. On the heels of the spread in popu- 
 larity of the Deere plow, a new flood of hard-land farmers swept into 
 northern Illinois. 
 
 At the first annual meeting of the reorganized Galena and Chicago 
 Union Railroad Company, held at its offices in the Merchants' Ex- 
 change Building in Chicago on April 5, 1848, the president was able 
 to report that .$351,800 worth of stock had been sold. It had been 
 decided that there were sufficient funds in the treasury to make a 
 start. 
 
 Surveyor Richard P. Morgan, who had been lured away from the 
 Hudson River Railroad the previous September — at the munificent 
 salary of .$2.50 per day — informed the directors that he had mapped 
 out the course of the road "on the half-section line corresponding 
 with the center of Kinzie Street, on which course it continues for 
 thirteen miles, crossing the Des Plaines River a little south of the 
 St. Charles Road." (This St. Charles Road was the eastern part of 
 the stage road from Chicago to Galena, and its eastern portion was 
 also the stage road from Chicago to Dixon and Rock Island — over 
 which Frink and Wagner ran coaches for many years — until the 
 coming of "the Galena" put them out of business.) 
 
 IMorgan planned to parallel the state road to Galena, a distance 
 of 182 miles, and had at first estimated the cost at .$14,553 per mile. 
 Obviously, despite the response of the farmers and villagers to the 
 
PIONEEn RAILROAD 
 
 picas of ^Vill 0<i(U'n, contracts could not be cntcreil into for tlic 
 completion of the line. The Board of Directors therefore had ap- 
 proved contract for the first 8 miles of track from Chicago to the 
 Dcs Plaines River and at this first annual meeting had secured ap- 
 proval to contract for construction of 31 miles more — as far as 
 Elgin. 
 
 President Ogden asked Survej'or Morgan if his estimate of $l-i,- 
 553 per mile meant that he would use T rail or strap rail. Morgan 
 said he had figured on T rail but that if strap rail were to be used 
 he would be able to cut his cost to $8,500 per mile. 
 
 "Ruinous financial difficulties in Great Britain [where T rail then 
 came from] have prevented the company from getting iron," re- 
 ported Ogden, "so it has been decided that strap rail will have to 
 be used." (The superstructure of a railroad in those days was com- 
 posed of crossties 9 feet long and 6 inches thick which were laid 30 
 inches from center to center; on these were placed longitudinal rails 
 of Norway or yellow pine, a portion 6 inches square and a portion 
 7 inches square secured in place by triangular blocks or knees of 
 scantling, firmly spiked to the ties on each side. Upon the longitudi- 
 nal rails was an oak ribbon iM by 3 inches square, and on this ribbon 
 an iron plate rail, 2% by % or % inches and weighing about 30 tons 
 to the mile.) 
 
 So it was decided, at the 18-i8 meeting to close the first fiscal year, 
 that "the Galena," as it had come to be called, should start off as a 
 strap-rail railroad ; that on completion of the track to the Dcs 
 Plaines River work should be continued — the money was on hand — 
 to Elgin; that construction should be begun on a depot in Chicago 
 at the southwest corner of Kinzie and Canal streets. There was no 
 mention of other depots along the line — they were still in the offing — 
 either on the left- or the right-hand side of the tracks. 
 
 At this first annual meeting the directors were authorized to pur- 
 chase a locomotive — preferably secondhand — and, if possible, to 
 pay for it with stock; authorization was also given for the purchase, 
 under the same conditions, of three passenger cars and thirteen 
 freight cars. 
 
 Apparently the directors were devoid of any silly superstitions 
 regarding the future of the Galena's freight trade. 
 
a 
 
 lapter 7 
 
 THE PIONEER 
 
 The ptjkchase of passenger cars and freight cars, as authorized by 
 the Galena's Board of Directors, was a comparatively simple mat- 
 ter; not so the securing of a locomotive with which to haul them. In 
 the summer of 1848 Surveyor Richard P. Morgan and Chief Engi- 
 neer John Van Nortwick were busy laying strap rail between Chi- 
 cago's first railroad depot at Canal and Kinzie streets (also in 
 course of constiniction) and the Des Plaines River; Van Nortwick 
 was notified by President Ogden to go look for a locomotive — a sec- 
 ondhand locomotive, to be paid for with stock. 
 
 "That's a difficult order to carry out," the Galena's chief engineer 
 told its president. "Railroads, as you know, Mr. Ogden, are sprout- 
 ing up all over the Middle West. A good many of them seem to have 
 more money than we have; possibly because they are projects fos- 
 tered by eastern bankers and not, as in our case, by the people along 
 what is to be our right of way. Cars I can get you. Locomotives, 
 that's something else again. But I'm on my way." 
 
 Van Nortwick lunched at the Tremont House that day and by 
 lucky chance ran into an acquaintance, Robert Mahan, paymaster 
 for the Michigan Central Railroad. The Michigan Central, coming 
 out of Detroit, had just reached its then Lake Michigan terminus 
 at New Buffalo and was of three minds as to its plans for the future 
 - — whether to put in a line of market-ferries between New Buffalo and 
 Chicago, to build on around the edge of the lake to the already 
 sprawling city, or, as Will Ogden had suggested, to let the Galena 
 build out of Chicago round the tip of the lake to meet the Michigan 
 Central in New Buffalo. The estimated cost of this last plan, $328,- 
 000, knocked it on the head for Ogden. Later the Michigan Central 
 did build around the lake, but when Van Nortwick ran into Pay- 
 
 57 
 
58 PIONEER RAILROAD 
 
 master Mahan in tlie Trcmont House the lattcr's road was resting 
 easy on its laurels ; it had done a record job of tracklayinf? with light 
 engines as haulers; Ogden was building the first leg of the Galena 
 with horses as traction. 
 
 "Yes, we've got some light engines," said Mahan in reply to Van 
 Nortwick's query. "Good enough for those ten miles of strap rail 
 you're starting off with. We're getting new stuff from Baldwin any 
 day now. How many of these hugger-muggers do you want? Four be 
 enough?" 
 
 "One will be quite enough," replied Xnn Xortwick modestly. 
 "You've got to crawl before you walk, leap, or run. Just a little 
 farm-to-market railroad, Mahan." 
 
 "Well, if it's crawling you want," replied the Michigan Central 
 pa^'master, "we've got it. Cash on the barrelhead, I suppose." 
 
 "We'll pay you in stock," replied Van Nortwick firmly. 
 
 Mahan's ardor cooled slightly, and he said the matter would have 
 to go to higher quarters. In the meantime, would the Galena engineer 
 come out to New Buffalo and look over an engine or two? Van Nort- 
 wick was agreeable. In the Michigan Central yard he found what he 
 was looking for — the first locomotive of the Chicago and North 
 Western Railway System ! 
 
 All engines had names in those days and this humble hauler of 
 ties and rails and working men was no exception; it was called Alerf; 
 ]\Iahan had neglected to mention that Alert was a used engine when 
 the ]\Iichigan Central had bought it from the Utica and Schenectady 
 Railroad two years before. As a matter of fact, when Van Nortwick 
 first looked it over. Alert had already put in eleven years of grueling 
 service ; when its purchase was finally approved by President Ogden 
 it became not a secondhand engine but a third-hand engine — which 
 was nothing to its discredit. Alert had been built to last ; it still lasts, 
 as this is being written, at the ripe old age of one hundred and 
 twelve ! 
 
 The Galena's engineer went carefully over every bolt and plate. 
 The tiny locomotive bore the name of its maker, the Baldwin I>oco- 
 niotive Company of Philadelphia. Its cylinders were 10 inches in 
 diameter with an 18-inch stroke ; it had but one pair of driving wheels 
 4/4 feet in diameter and weighed 10 tons. Naturally, as of its vin- 
 tage, it was wood-burning; it had iron tires, weighed 24',000 pounds. 
 
THE PIONEER 
 
 and its original water container was a barrel in the cab; later its 
 tender capacity was 1,015 gallons. The first engineer of the Galena's 
 first locomotive was John Ebbert ; its first fireman, Daniel Sheehan. 
 Ebbert lived to exhibit his engine at the Chicago World's Fair of 
 1893, passing on six years later. But his iron horse, the first loco- 
 motive to pull a train out of Chicago, showed up again at the St. 
 Louis Fair of 1903 and at tiie second Chicago World's Fair, in 19.33. 
 In 1948 it made its bow to the public again at the Chicago Railroad 
 Fair. 
 
 Van Nortwick did some scurrying back and forth between Chicago 
 and New Buffalo. The purcliase price was finally settled at 40 shares 
 of Galena stock, par value per share one hundred dollars ; the chief 
 engineer had a new name plate made, and Alert became Pioneer. On 
 the afternoon of October 22, 1848, Chicago's first railroad engine 
 was lowered from the boat that had carried it from New Buffalo onto 
 the planking of the Clark Street dock on the north side of the river. 
 Its fresh black paint gleamed ; its brass and copper facings had been 
 polished to mirrorlike reflection ; its wheels and smokestack had been 
 sandpapered till they resembled steel. From the dock it was horse- 
 hauled to the Galena depot at Canal and Kinzie streets where, next 
 daj', it was jacked onto the tracks. No official holiday was declared, 
 but apparently all Chicago took time off to watch the unloading of 
 its first railroad locomotive. Reporting the Pioneer^s arrival in the 
 depot in its issue of October 24, the Chicago Daily Journal stated: 
 "The Iron Horse is at length on the track and will 'fire up' in a day 
 or two over that part of the road which has been completed." 
 
 Moving around among the throng on the afternoon of arrival, 
 William Butler Ogden, subscription book in hand, sold over twenty 
 thousand dollars' worth of stock in the Galena. Chicago had wanted 
 to be shown ! Well, he was showing Chicago ! 
 
 On the afternoon of October 25, the Galena directors and some 
 few friends rode out as far as the tracks had been completed, to what 
 is now Oak Park. Nothing untoward happened, the Pioneer behaved 
 well, farmers and merchants lined the single track, cheering the 
 progress of the train, which consisted of one passenger car and one 
 open freight car — the latter empty on the westward journey. 
 
 At Oak Ridge (now Oak Park) the directors and their guests 
 descended for refreshments which were served in the shack doing 
 
PIONEEn RAILROAD 
 
 duty ns tlic road's first sul)urban station. Followiiifr an enjoyable 
 liour and just as the I'ioncer was about to knuckle down to a home- 
 going demonstration of its pusliing as well as its pulling abilities — 
 the Galena had not as yet got round to a turntable — Director J. 
 Young Scanimon noticed a farmer on the outskirts of the crowd, 
 perched on a wagonload of wheat. 
 
 "Where you taking that, friend.''" asked Mr. Scammon. 
 
 "Newberry and Dole," answered the farmer. 
 
 "How would j'ou like your wheat to be the first hauled into Chi- 
 cago by train.'"' asked Scammon. "Free," he added. 
 
 The farmer, whose name unhappily has not been passed on to 
 posterity, wasn't any too sure about his likes or dislikes, but when 
 he understood that he, too, would ride the train with his produce, 
 he gave consent. AVilling hands transferred the bags to the open 
 freight car — and so came the first train-hauled wheat to the city 
 that was to become the world's leading wheat market. 
 
 From that October day of 1848 the Galena never looked back — 
 always forward. Work did not progress as fast as it did on other 
 railroads which were springing up all over the country, with a spe- 
 cial rash of them in the Middle West; where the Federal government 
 was being goaded on by Senator Stephen A. Douglas who had secured 
 the first railroad land grant for the Illinois Central. Washington, 
 from aloof stinginess, had suddenly become almost overgenerous in 
 its concessions to promoters wishing to lay track in the "new lands." 
 Iowa had been admitted to statehood in 1846, Wisconsin in 1848; 
 the tide of immigration was in full flood into both new common- 
 wealths, and an agricultural and town building boom was on. 
 
 But the Galena proceeded slowly, making money as it went along 
 but never borrowing for expansion, putting only profits back into 
 extension of track and purchase of equipment. By 1850 the Chicago, 
 the Elgin, the Illinois, the Belvidere, and the Rockford had been 
 added to the engine roster still headed by that third-hand old stal- 
 wart, the Pioneer. Wood was used for fuel, and the average cost per 
 cord was .$2.13; there was timber aplenty all along the right of way. 
 
 The Galena reached the Des Plaines River (May wood) on De- 
 cember 15, 1848. The track was opened to Turner Junction (West 
 
THE PIONEER 
 
 61 
 
 Chicago) 30 miles west of Chicago in the spring of 1849. Here the 
 road swung almost due north to Elgin, a distance of 12 miles. From 
 Turner Junction another line was later extended westward through 
 Dixon to Fulton on the Mississippi River, a distance of 105 miles. 
 Turner Junction (named for John B. Turner) served as the north- 
 
 In 1850 Chicago's first railroad, while only 43 miles long, was already well estab- 
 lished and prospering as it moved on to its initial goal in northwestern IllLnois. 
 
 ern temiinus of the Aurora Branch Railroad, and for a number of 
 years the trains of that road and its successor, the Chicago, Burling- 
 ton and Quincy, ran from this point over the line of the Galena into 
 Chicago.* 
 
 Elgin and the countryside staged an enormous celebration when 
 the Pioneer puffed into that city on January 22, 1850. Belvidere 
 was reached on December 3, 1851. Track reached Cherry Valley 
 March 10, 1852, and "amid cannon and the ringing of bells" the 
 Pioneer proudly snorted into Rockford on August 2, 1852. The 
 
 * Petersen, W. J., The Northwestern Comes, The Palimpsest, Journal of the 
 Iowa Historical Society, 1924. 
 
PIONEER RAII. nOAD 
 
 Galena's arrival in Rockford put stagecoaches out of business to 
 the East, and the Galena advertised connections with stages from 
 Rockford to Galena and Dubuque; to Beloit, Janesville, aiid Madi- 
 son ; to Dixon and to Rock Island. 
 
 Meantime there had been dissension on the board of the railroad 
 ■which had blossomed into open quarrel and accusation. President 
 Will Ogden, in addition to his investments in Chicago real estate, 
 had also gone in heavily for timberland purchase along the southern 
 Wisconsin border and along the Galena's right of way. He was back 
 in the lumber business in a big way just as he had been in Walton, 
 New York, as a young man operating the family sawmill. He had a 
 ready market for his inidwestern lumber in Chicago both as fuel and 
 for construction purposes. He was also selling cordwood and railroad 
 ties by the trackside for use in the engines and on the right of way 
 of the Galena — something which, seemingly, he had a perfect right 
 to do. 
 
 The charge was made that Ogden was using his position as 
 president of the Galena to increase his railroad tie and cordwood 
 sales and shut off competition. The accusation was never made to 
 his face, but upon hearing of it he immediately submitted his resig- 
 nation both as president and director — which the majority of the 
 directors refused to accept. Ogden withdrew the resignation, but at 
 subsequent meetings refused to take his seat when those directors 
 who had accused him of profiteering were present. This was in the 
 summer of 1848, and until June, 1851, J. Young Scammon presided 
 over meetings whenever Ogden absented himself. On June 5, 1851, 
 when Ogden insisted on resigning over the protests of the majority 
 of the Board, John Bice Turner was elected president of the Galena. 
 
 But Ogden was by no means through with his favorite railroad. 
 
 John Bice Turner was the fifth president of the Galena and Chi- 
 cago Union Railroad Company, his predecessors being Theophilus 
 W. Smith, Elijah K. Hubbard, James H. Collins, and William Butler 
 Ogden. Smith, Collins, and Hubbard were merely presidents of a 
 ])aper railroad for purposes of keeping the charter alive. Ogden was 
 the first president of the functioning railroad. 
 
 A stocky man of medium height, Turner was one of the ablest 
 
THEPIONEER Dd 
 
 citizens of the Chicago of his day. He came to tiie Galena with a 
 background of railroad building and administration experience 
 which was to stand the budding little line and the great carrier into 
 which it developed in good stead. 
 
 Like his friend Will Ogden, John Turner was a native of New- 
 York State. Little is known of his early struggles, but unlike Ogden, 
 he was certainly not bom to affluence or in all probability even to 
 comfort. He first came to notice as a railroad builder when, in 1835, 
 at the age of thirty-four he was awarded a contract to build 7 miles 
 of the Ransom and Saratoga Railroad. Previous to this good for- 
 tune, Turner is believed to have worked up from tanner's apprentice 
 to tracklayer to section foreman. He did such a good job of his 
 7-mile strip that he was made general manager of the entire line — 
 only 40 miles long. The Ransom and Saratoga trains were hauled 
 by horses, and Turner built barns and stables for their accommoda- 
 tion at intervals of 10 miles. In the same year, in partnership with 
 his brother, he took a contract for the construction of the Delaware 
 division of the New York and Erie Railroad Company. The crash 
 of 1837 wiped out his construction company. Three years later he 
 had somewhat recouped himself through a contract to dig a portion 
 of the Genesee Valley Canal. A completed contract for construction 
 of a portion of the Troy and Schenectady Railroad put Turner for 
 the first time in his life a few thousand dollars ahead, and he was 
 able to achieve a boyhood ambition — to go West with some capital 
 in his pocket. With his wife and two younger children — his eldest 
 boy was a student at Williamstown College — he arrived in Chicago 
 on October 15, 1843, with letters of introduction to William Butler 
 Ogden, Charles Butler, AValter Newberry, George Dole, and J. 
 Young Scammon. His first venture was the purchase of a thousand 
 acres of prairie land south of Blue Island which he stocked with 
 sheep driven in from Ohio. 
 
 This practical railroad-man-turned-sheep-farmer amazed Will 
 Ogden ; he and J. Young Scammon had been dreaming about resusci- 
 tating the Galena for several years ; but there were lots of things 
 about railroads concerning which the pair knew nothing; the ar- 
 rival of John Bice Turner seemed something like a gift from on high. 
 Ogden and Scammon came to visit the sheep farmer at his rooms in 
 
64 PIONEKRRAILROAD 
 
 tlie TrLiiiont House. Yes, he told his visitors, he was interested in 
 railroad biiildinfj and particularly interested in the Galena; it 
 seemed he had all the facts and all the difficulties at his finger tips. 
 
 "Then why," asked Scammon, "do you start up a sheep farm when 
 railroads are the coming things and you are a practical railroad 
 man ?" 
 
 "I wasn't going to push in until I knew I was wanted," replied 
 'I'urner with characteristic modesty. "Back East you Chicago gen- 
 tlemen are getting the name of being a rather close corporation." 
 
 "Close or not," chorused his visitors, "we need you." 
 
 As managing director of the reorganized Galena, Turner proved 
 himself an able lieutenant to President Ogden ; when the latter in- 
 sisted on the acceptance of his resignation, both pro-Ogden and 
 anti-Ogden directors were agreed that Turner was their logical 
 leader. 
 
 The Galena entered Freeport on September 1, 1853, thus ending 
 the march westward over that particular line by the progenitor of 
 the North Western system. Two routes lay open if the original plan 
 was to be carried out and entrance made into the city whose name 
 was borne by the railroad line. One of these would be to the north- 
 west by way of Warren and Scales Mound ; the other to the south- 
 west by way of Savanna. But the Illinois Central was already build- 
 ing to Galena, and President Turner was of the opinion that the 
 countryside, rich and prosperous as it was becoming, could not sup- 
 port two railroad lines running almost parallel. Chief Engineer Van 
 Nortwick of the Galena reported: 
 
 Thorc can be no doubt that the true policy of both companies is to 
 form a connection at such a point as shall be found most practical, east 
 of Galena, and construct but one road to that place. It is understood that 
 both companies favor and contemplate such an arrangement.* 
 
 Freeport was agreed upon by the two roads as the point of junc- 
 tion, and on the Galena's arrival there the Illinois Central took up 
 construction of its Frccport-Galena division. The iron horse — 
 though it was not the Galena's iron horse — reached Galena and the 
 heights above the Mississippi River on October 30, 1854. 
 
 * Petersen, \V. J., The Northwestern Comes, The Palimpsest, Journal of the 
 Iowa Historical Society, 1924. 
 
THE PIONEER 
 
 65 
 
 The Galena's first railroad depot, as has been told, stood on a 
 triangular piece of ground west of Canal Street and south of Kinzie 
 Street. It was at first a one-story wooden shack running east and 
 west, entered from what was then called West Water Street, which 
 ran along the north branch of the Chicago River. The depot faced 
 the railroad tracks which were south of the building. In 1849 this 
 depot was enlarged, and provision made for freight handling as well 
 as for passengers. A second story was added which was used as a 
 general office, and on top of this was a glass enclosure looking like 
 some sort of observatory. This was for years President Turner's 
 post of observation. Armed with a telescope, he would engage in his 
 favorite relaxation — if you could call it that — the detection of 
 approaching trains through his glass and reports of their progress 
 or lack of it, shouted down through the flimsy building to employes 
 and patrons alike. He could see on a clear day his engines puffing 
 away as far off as Austin — six miles. Samuel Morse had already 
 invented the telegraph, some six years before, but the railroads had 
 not as yet got around to using it. 
 
 In 1852 the Galena substituted T rail for its archaic strap rail and 
 in the same year placed a floating bridge on the Chicago River at 
 practically the same place where now stands the Chicago and North 
 Western Railway bridge. In 1853 the road completed its second de- 
 pot, standing east and west along North Water Street with its 
 east end on Wells Street. Sometime after this depot was occupied, 
 Wells Street was filled in and raised about 8 feet; this caused the 
 Galena company to add 30 feet to the length of the building and 
 put on another story, making it three stories high with a frontage 
 of 45 feet on Wells Street and 75 feet on North Water Street. This 
 building remained in use until the Great Fire of 1871 when, like most 
 of Chicago, it went up in smoke. 
 
 The Galena had a third depot in Chicago for the use of passen- 
 gers. Owning land on the east side of North Dearborn Street and 
 south of Kinzie Street, the company in 1851 erected here a two-story 
 building, the lower portion of which was used originally for freight 
 purposes and the upper for offices. For some time during the middle 
 fifties the passenger trains of the Galena road ran to and from this 
 building, and while this was being done neither the first nor the sec- 
 ond depots were in use. Nobody knows the reason, and if there had 
 
66 
 
 PIONKEIl KAIL nOAD 
 
 been liny ix])laiuition in the records these were unavaihible because 
 of hiivinfT been destroyed in the Chicago Fire.* 
 
 The directors of the Galena apparently felt somewhat chagrined 
 over the failure to gain a railroad monopoly from P'reeport to the 
 Mississippi. On the heels of the Illinois Central's triumphant entry 
 into the city of Galena, Chief Engineer Van Nortwick was ordered 
 to locate a line from Turner Junction to a suitable point of con- 
 nection with the Rockford and Rock Island Railroad, from which 
 point it would continue through Dixon to Fulton on the Missis- 
 sippi. 
 
 The Galena's chief engineer, somewhat disheartened by events, 
 perked up over this order. His report was : 
 
 There can be no doubt that this route must form the great trunk line 
 west from Chicago to Council BlutTs and even west of tliat point, and 
 that this is the one upon which Chicago must rely to secure the business 
 of central and western Iowa rather than upon other western lines having 
 eastern connections south of that city. 
 
 Van Nortwick sold the idea to his directors, who authorized an 
 increase in the capital stock of the Galena to a sum "not exceeding 
 five million dollars" with which "to extend the Dixon and Central 
 Iowa route to Dixon and, if they should deem it expedient, to the 
 Mississippi River; or to unite or consolidate with any other road 
 on that route." 
 
 President Turner got busy on this latter phase and secured from 
 the Mississippi and Rock River Junction Railroad Company a lease 
 by which a continuous and complete line of railroad would be made 
 and operated from Chicago to Fulton under the control and man- 
 agement of the Galena. This lease provided that the Mississippi and 
 Rock River Junction should "prepare the roadway for the super- 
 structure" and that the Galena should "complete, stock, and oper- 
 ate it in perpetuity." For its work the IMississippi and Rock River 
 Junction was to receive 7 per cent annually on its expenditures. For 
 this splendid piece of work Engineer Van Nortwick was made "presi- 
 dent and engineer" of the Mississippi and Rock River Junction Rail- 
 road. 
 
 The work went ahead rapidly. Stock had sold readily, and for the 
 • See Appendix for detailed history of the Nortli Western's Chicago depots. 
 
THE PIONEER 
 
 first time in its existence the Galena did not liave to count tlie pen- 
 nies. By January 10, 1854, track was open as far as Lane, 45 miles 
 from Junction. Despite heavy snowfalls that late w'inter, the road 
 was completed to Dixon by December 4 of the same year. 
 
 On January' 9, 1855, as had been expected, the Mississippi and 
 Rock River Junction consolidated with the Galena, and Van Nort- 
 wick set speedily about forging the last links of his chain from 
 Chicago. On July 22 the first Galena train rolled into Sterling. 
 On September 23 the iron horse puffed into Morrison, and on De- 
 cember 16, the old Pioneer, given — as always — the place of honor, 
 snorted proudly into Fulton and graciously deigned to take a drink 
 from Old Man River. 
 
Cl 
 
 I a pier S 
 
 N O R T II \V E S T E R N D R E A M 
 
 From 1851 until 1855, William Butler Ogden was not officially in- 
 terested in railroading. He had a large and ever growing real-estate 
 business in Chicago ; as a contractor he was laying most of what 
 are now the downtown streets of the city of his adoj^tion ; facing 
 these streets he built stores, offices, and homes. 
 
 He was a busy man — and if he was not, during those j'ears, a prac- 
 ticing railroad man he was nevertheless a very active theoretical 
 railroad man. He was lumbering in Illinois, Wisconsin, and Michi- 
 gan. And the Galena was still his baby — though there were still on 
 its directorate men who had hurt him to the quick. But his friends 
 on the Board, such as John Bice Turner, J. Young Scammon, and 
 others, came to him frequently for unofficial consultation and ad- 
 vice; he never failed them, passed along his constructive thoughts of 
 today, his dreams of tomorrow. These dreams were to develop into 
 reality — the strategy of that enterprise that was to become the 
 Chicago and North Western Railway System. 
 
 Approaching his fifties he was still an extraordinarily active man, 
 an ardent horseback rider. In his journej's out of Chicago into what 
 was then considered the Northwest — Wisconsin, northern Michigan, 
 and IMinncsota — he preferred his horses even where he found rail- 
 road lines, though he did not neglect to use these to test their effi- 
 cacy and their ultimate purpose in these plans of his for the future 
 of the territory. 
 
 We have told the story of J. Young Scammon accosting the farmer 
 on that first triumphal run of the Galena to Oak Park (then Oak 
 Ridge) and the switching of the bags of grain from the horse-drawn 
 wagon to the two-car train hauled by the Pioneer on its first run 
 back to Chicago. That wagonload of grain made a profound im- 
 
 68 
 
NORTH WESTERNDREAM 69 
 
 pression on Will Ogden ; it indicated to him in no uncertain terms 
 the basis of prosperity for railroad lines running out of Chicago 
 west and northwest — as indeed it indicated the basis of prosperity 
 for all the "Granger" lines that were to come. 
 
 Years have passed since Will Ogden rode the trails and dreamed 
 of a vast railroad s^'stem that would tap as yet unpeopled regions 
 and conjure forth farms and villages, furnaces and cities, factories 
 and ports, that would provide life, liberty, and the pursuit of happi- 
 ness for millions yet unborn. It all came true — and looking at the 
 vast, fertile, peopled domain as it is today, the whole development 
 seems simple, natural ; it was, and it is — but where would the auto- 
 mobile be without the spark plug? There is no question but that 
 Ogden was the spark plug of the Chicago and North Western Rail- 
 wav System; it is just as certain that he was the spark j^lug that 
 brought civilization and prosperity to the area from which his 
 "baby" most rightly took its name. 
 
 The whole thing is as simple and direct — again looking back at 
 it today — as those first 10 miles of strap railroad that he laid down 
 out of Chicago, due west. Ogden's strategy shows clear in a railroad 
 map made just before the advent of the Civil War — -a line across 
 the Mississippi with the system in embrj'o shown in additional lines 
 of 80 and 100 miles running north into Wisconsin. The essential 
 beginning of the dream was assuming reality — a trunk line north and 
 a trunk line west; Cedar Rapids the western terminus, Green Bay 
 the northern. 
 
 Ogden, in his studies and dreams, had ridden far into upper IMichi- 
 gan. He had sat on his horse- — man and steed both weary, both de- 
 termined^and stared at the muddy waters of the ^Missouri, and out 
 into Nebraska. These journeys developed the major objectives that 
 were to become the accomplishment of the North Western — the 
 western offensive with the Missouri and the farmlands-to-be as the 
 goal; the northern offensive, aimed at the grain lands and the iron 
 and copper country. 
 
 Three hundred years ago Jesuit missionaries found copper on 
 Lake Superior, the richest beds of native copper in all the world. In 
 1850, Jean Louis Agassiz, the great Swiss-American naturalist and 
 geologist, wrote his book Lake Superior, in which he pointed out the 
 
70 PIONEEURAILROAD 
 
 richni'ss of the region in copper and iron deposits. 'J'lie first bar of 
 Lake Superior iron liad been drawn tlirough a blacksmith's forge 
 in 184G. When Will Ogden rode into the copper and iron lands he 
 carried Agassiz' Lake Superior in one of his saddlebags. He had 
 read all about the riches that lay underground, had made a trip to 
 the Lowell Listitute in Boston to interview Agassiz and had returned 
 to Chicago and his process of making dreams realities — with this 
 advice : "You can study nature in my book, IMr. Ogden. But unless 
 you go out of doors yourself you cannot find her. This new country 
 needs students far more than it needs textbooks. The book of nature 
 is always open." 
 
 In the Lake Superior iron and copper region, Will Ogden sensed 
 that this portion of his dream would be easy to realize; here was a 
 traffic goal that, instead of being attained over desert wastes, was 
 reachable across terrain perhaps as profit-bearing as the treasure 
 that unworldly men of God had merely recorded and then left for 
 the enrichment of crass men of business. As a practical lumberman. 
 Will Ogden viewed with great satisfaction the forests of pine, the 
 seemingly inexhaustible stores of hardwoods; well, suppose the tim- 
 ber was exhaustible? W^hat then? Ogden was a builder, a lumberman, 
 a railroad man — and he was also a farmer. In his rare days of leisure 
 he was a hunter and a fisherman. He dreamed on, but his dream was 
 as soundly practical as the dreams of Stevenson, Whitney, Ford, 
 Columbus, or the Pilgrim Fathers. 
 
 Will Ogden saw trains hauling copper and iron through a land 
 of barley, small grains, and dairies. Where the pine stood as he rode 
 the edge of the forests he saw the farmer moving in with the clearing 
 of the land. He saw the tamarack swamps drained, cattle turned into 
 the brush and the clearings, to the most nutritious of grasses, the 
 coolest of waters. 
 
 It was on a September afternoon of 185-t that Ogden and his horse 
 halted on the heights above the Missouri River where Lewis and 
 Clark had held their council with the Indians just fifty years be- 
 fore. Across the brown water was a village thriving by leaps and 
 bounds — Omaha ! Nebraska had been a territory for four months. 
 Already there was talk of a transcontinental railroad to cross the 
 Missouri at this point; it was not even to begin construction for 
 
N O U T H \V E S T E R N D R E A M 71 
 
 another eight years. What could be easier tliaii to meet sucli a rail- 
 road from the coast here on the river and form a junction? Jump 
 the gxin ! Will Ogden dreamed on, dreams that were to come to pass, 
 all of them. 
 
 This Nebraska Territory was extraordinary, definitely a neces- 
 sary link in the chain. Will Ogden crossed the Missouri, rode deep 
 into the new lands. Grasses that cured on the ground ! Great for 
 stock raising. Hay country, wheat country, small-grain country. 
 Too young for dairying, but that would come, as it would come to 
 the Wisconsin timberlands. Ogden rode back to Chicago, heartened. 
 He had given two years to studying the potentialities of his railroad 
 dream. He celebrated his fiftieth birthday a few daj's after his return, 
 and his close friends gathered at his Rush Street mansion to con- 
 gratulate him — John Turner, J. Young Scammon, George Dole, 
 Cyrus McCormick, Perry Smith, Charles Butler, Mahlon Ogden, 
 William H. Brown, Judge Henry AV. Blodgett, and a rising _young 
 New York lawyer named Samuel J. Tilden who was later to win 
 the presidency of the United States on the popular vote of the elec- 
 torate of the country, only to lose it in the electoral college. 
 
 To these friends on his fiftieth birthday William Butler Ogden 
 outlined his plans for a "northwestern railway." His picture did not 
 take in South Dakota and Wyoming — he was a little early for that, 
 even in a dream — but in all else the plan which came through was 
 his. He spread a map on a table and traced his system through traf- 
 fic mines of the future, some of which even then had hardly the status 
 of villages — Chicago (the fountainhead, the mainspring), Milwau- 
 kee, Duluth, Superior, St. Paul, Minneapolis, Sioux City, Des 
 Moines, Omaha, Lincoln. 
 
 In the summer of 1855 a telegraph line was laid alongside the 
 Galena tracks from Chicago to Freeport, and for the first time on 
 any western railroad trains were operated by means of Morse's 
 invention. In 1855 President Turner also tried out two soft-coal- 
 burning engines in place of his old wood-burners. His agreement 
 with the builders was that he need not buy if the locomotives were 
 not a success ; they were not. 
 
 Turner and his Board of Directors laid down ambitious plans in 
 
72 PIONEERRAILROAD 
 
 185G. Tlicy niajipcd out an extension of tlie Galena westward from 
 Clinton, Iowa, talking over 40 miles of track that had been laid down 
 by the Chicaf^o, Iowa and Nebraska Railroad before it ran out of 
 money. The complete plan had been to run to an as yet unselected 
 point in Iowa and from thence north "to connect with a road extend- 
 ing northwesterly to St. Paul." The Galena stockholders were warned 
 that these were defensive measures ; the Middle West had gone rail- 
 road mad, and lines were being projected everywhere, some on paper, 
 some in the begging stage, some gathering finances, some actually 
 laying track. 
 
 Turner had still another headache. It had been decided that Chi- 
 cago needed jacking up if parts of it were not to sink into the swamp. 
 George Pullman, later inventor of the Pullman car, was the man 
 who put most of what was later the Loop on stilts. And the Galena 
 had to go along and hoist its depots, engine house, and tracks an 
 average of two and a half feet over about sixteen acres of land. The 
 soil had to be hauled from Babcock's Grove (now Lombard), and 
 though the Galena did its own hauling, the job ran into real monev. 
 
 The little railroad, the most prosperous and best-managed busi- 
 ness of its kind in the IMiddle West despite the hoisting job and de- 
 spite competition, entered the panic year of 1857 in good financial 
 shape and had already laid second track as far as Turner Junction. 
 It boasted 56 locomotive engines and 1,200 freight and passenger 
 cars. It owned 260 miles of finished road at a cost, to date, of 
 $8,293,294.62; had a bonded debt of $2,958,015.28; during the 
 A'ear over 613,000 passengers had been carried. 
 
 "All our original plans have been carried out," announced Presi- 
 dent Turner, "with the exception of the completion of the second 
 track. The gross earnings for the year were $2,800,053." 
 
 The financial panic of 1857, brought about primarily by railroad 
 promotion and railroad stock speculation, crippled all western rail- 
 roads. The Galena, built solidly, its stock in the great majority held 
 by men and women who believed in its future on the record of its 
 successful past and who were not in any sense of the word specu- 
 lators, dug in and held on. But passenger and freight earnings fell 
 off more than 25 per cent, and between August, 1857, and the fol- 
 lowing January its working force had to be cut from 1,904 to 722. 
 
NORTH WESTERN DREAJI 
 
 73 
 
 Bankruptcy was the rule among the majority' of the western roads. 
 But while the panic ran its course, the Galena kept on laying its 
 second track. 
 
 What had been accomplished up to this time is best shown in the 
 Galena report for the fiscal year, 1857, as taken from W. H. Sten- 
 nett's history of the Chicago and North Western Railway System, 
 entitled Yesterday and Today. 
 
 MAIN LINE 
 
 The road was opened to Elgin, 42 miles from Chicago, January 
 22, 1850. This portion of the road was originally laid with strap- 
 rail iron, resting upon longitudinal stringers, but during 1852-1853 
 this track was replaced with iron T rail. 
 
 Distance, Point of 
 
 Main Line Opened To: miles Origin Date 
 
 Huntley 55 Chicago September 15, 1851 
 
 Marengo 66 Chicago October 18, 1851 
 
 Belv'idere 78 Chicago December 3, 1851 
 
 Cherry Valley 84 Chicago March 10, 185^2 
 
 Rockford M Chicago August 2, 1852 
 
 Freeport 121 Chicago September 1, 1853 
 
 Beloit 21 Beh-idere November 14, 1853 
 
 Chicago, Fulton a:sd Iowa Line 
 
 Distance, miles, from 
 
 Trad: Opened To: Turner Junction * Date 
 
 Lane 45 January 10, 1854 
 
 Dixon 68 December 4, 1854 
 
 Sterling 80 July 22, 1855 
 
 Morrison 94 September 23, 1855 
 
 Fulton 105J^ December 16, 1855 
 
 * This year the name Turner Junction was changed to Turner in honor of the Galena 
 president. 
 
 SECOND TRACK — OPENINGS 
 
 To cit}' limits, 2 miles from Chicago, September 1, 1855. 
 To Harlem, 9 miles from Chicago, December 15, 1855. 
 To Cottage Hill, 17 miles from Chicago, October 19, 1856. 
 
71' FIONEERRAILROAD 
 
 To Babcock's Grove, 20 miles from Chicago, June 7, 1857. 
 From Danby to Whcaton, 2/4 miles, June 7, 1857. 
 From Wheaton to Winfield, 2^4 miles, November 1, 1857. 
 To Turner Junction, 30 miles from Chicago, December G, 1857. 
 
 ST. CIIARl.ES AIU LINE BRANCH* 
 
 0])cncd from South Branch station to Harlem, 10/4 miles, Janu- 
 ary 1, 1856. 
 
 AVERAGE MILEAGE BY YEARS 
 
 The general average of the number of miles of T-rail track in 
 use in the main track, from September 15, 1851, to May 1, 1852, 
 seven and one-half months, was 31/^4 miles, equal to 19^,4 miles for 
 one year. 
 
 Date General Average, miles 
 
 May 1, 1852, to May 1, 1853 48 
 
 May 1, 1853, to May 1, 1854 131 
 
 May 1, 1854, to May 1, 1855 1961-^ 
 
 May 1, 1855, to May 1, 1856 240 
 
 May 1, 1856, to May 1, 1857 272}^ 
 
 May 1, 1857, to May 1. 1858 282 % 
 
 Equal to 188Va for one year. 
 
 The total length of track, in miles. In use January 1, 1858, is as 
 follows : 
 
 Main line, from Chicago to Frceporl 121 
 
 Beloil branch, from Belvidere to Beloit 21 
 
 East Elgin branch 1 J^^ 
 
 Chicago, Fulton and Iowa line, from Junction to Fulton. . 1053^ 
 
 St. Charles Air Line, from Chicago to Harlem 10}^ 
 
 Total 259y2 
 
 Second track 30 
 
 Sidings and gravel pit tracks 42 Ji 
 
 Total S32}4, 
 
 •This is the little road that was liouRht In 1S54. 
 
NORTH VTESTERNDREAM 75 
 
 REAL ESTATE 
 The company owns the following acreage of real estate: 
 
 Right of way 3,300 
 
 Laud at and near Harlem Station, 9 miles west of Cliicago . 9-10 
 
 Depot Grounds 
 
 Main line and Beloit branch, mcluding 6'2 acres in Chicago 165 
 Chicago, Fulton and Iowa line 116 
 
 Total 281 
 
 Gravel pits 68 
 
 Miscellaneous lauds 3 , 491 
 
 Total real estate 8,080 
 
 (Of the land described in this statement as miscellaneous, a large 
 portion was bought on account of the wood growing thereon. When 
 the wood is removed the land is resold by the company. These lands 
 are scattered along the line of the railroad, and are generally con- 
 tiguous thereto. The company owns about 1,200 acres [included in 
 the above list] located on densely wooded islands in the Mississippi 
 River, a few miles above Fulton.) 
 
 During 1858 the Galena was beginning to feel its own oats — aside 
 from those oats it was hauling ; it had become a force to be recog- 
 nized among other roads, to be deferred to, powerful enough to ex- 
 tend a helping hand — for considerations, of course. A contract with 
 the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad required that the 
 latter use the Galena tracks, and pay for the privilege — to and from 
 Chicago east of Turner Junction. A contract with the Mineral Point 
 and the Illinois Central companies provided that, on a percentage 
 basis, the former should send all the business the destination of 
 which it could control over the Galena for a period of twenty years. 
 In November of this year the Fox River Valley Railroad was sold 
 under court decree to Benjamin W. Raymond and by him conveyed 
 to the Elgin and State Line Railroad Company, whereupon the 
 Galena entered into a contract to operate. 
 
 At the very moment President Turner, on behalf of the Galena, 
 was signing the contract with the Elgin and State Line Railroad, 
 
PIONEER RAILIIOAD 
 
 Williiun Butler Ogdcn was sitting in the offices of his New York at- 
 torney, Samuel J. Tilden. The Ciilca^o, St. Paul and Fond du Lac 
 Railroad Comi)any had failed to meet the interest on its bonds. The 
 Illinois State Legislature would meet for its biennial session inside 
 of the next six weeks when, in all probability — Ogden told Tilden — 
 acts would be passed authorizing the sale of the road and approving 
 the formation of a new corporation to acquire it. 
 
 William Butler Ogden wanted control of the Fond du Lac; he 
 classed it as one of the foundation stones that would turn his dreams 
 of a great northwestern railway system into reality. Tilden, a realist 
 if ever there was one, found himself in complete agreement with the 
 dreamer. 
 
Cl 
 
 lapier 9 
 
 LAYING THE FOUNDATION 
 
 The teakspoetation histoey of the United States has proved that 
 waves of railroad consolidation have always followed on the heels of 
 major industrial depressions. The sequence is natural. Hard times 
 came along, and weak railroads, newly constructed and partly con- 
 structed lines tumbled into the hands of bondholders and receivers. 
 These latter have but two lines of thought — unless a war comes along 
 and provides a shot in the arm in the form of troop, equipment, ar- 
 mament, and supply hauls — and these lines of thought are "sell for 
 what 3'ou can get and cut the loss ; that — or consolidation." 
 
 Consolidation is the recipe of the men with vision acting on the 
 old adage "if you can't fight 'em, join 'em." Out of the financial 
 crash of 1857 there peered — in so far as the Middle West of that 
 day was concerned — a weird collection of bankrupt railroad lines, 
 some of them dragging along by grace of optimistic pump-primers 
 from the j'oung cities of the New World and from the hoary cities 
 of the Old World ; others had quit cold, their strap rail, their T rail, 
 their wood-burning engines rusting by the right of way. 
 
 The territory was overrailroadcd for the populace, what with 
 paper plans, stock market promotions, parallel lines, competing 
 lines. A great proportion of the roads actually laid down had been 
 based by their promoters, for profit, on sweeps of immigration to 
 the new lands and the clearing of these into productive farms and, 
 after that, the advent of business and industrial centers, villages, 
 then towns, then cities. It didn't work out that way at that time ; the 
 railroads in many cases were built, and then whistled for pioneers ; 
 these pioneers, whose toil and production were to justify the rail- 
 roads, were unable to get into action fast enough ; the roads, wait- 
 ing for profits or even enough returns to justify operation, ran out 
 
 77 
 
78 !• I O N K i: It II A I I, It O A D 
 
 of money; tlic panic halted liopcs of getting furtlicr sinews of war. 
 Witli few exceptit)ns the railroads went bankrupt, remained isolated 
 and fragmentary, passed into the hands of receivers, were sold under 
 foreclosure, or were abandoned. 
 
 Out of such confusion, through the organizing genius of one man, 
 grew the Chicago and North Western Railway Sj'stem. 
 
 In 1847, before resuscitation of the Galena and Chicago Union 
 Railroad, William Butler Ogden and J. Young Scammon had visited 
 various Wisconsin settlements with the idea of sounding out senti- 
 ment on connecting railroad lines in the vicinity. They put an idea 
 in the heads of a group of Janesville and Bcloit citizens who in the 
 following year "created a body corporate by the name of the Madi- 
 son and Beloit Raih-oad Company." (The temporary title for this 
 venture must not be confused with the Bcloit and jMadison division 
 of the Galena, already referred to.) 
 
 Apparently realizing that a gross error in timing — and in nam- 
 ing — had been made, the Wisconsin company, in 'February, 1850, 
 secured legislative permission to change the name of the Madison 
 and Beloit and also to change the location "at any point on the south 
 line of the state of Wisconsin" and to "extend said road to an}' point 
 on the Wisconsin River that to them may seem proper." An amend- 
 ment, approved five days later, authorized the company to "extend 
 their road from Janesville to Lake Winnebago by way of Fort At- 
 kinson, Jefferson, and Watertown." The incorporators were further 
 authorized to change the name of the organization to the Rock 
 River Valley Union Railroad Compan}'. The act of February, 1850, 
 was further amended in March, 1851, to give the company authori- 
 zation "to extend its road to Lake Superior." Another amendment 
 authorized extension "from the point of intersection on the Wiscon- 
 sin River to the village of La Crosse in the County of La Crosse 
 and thence to Willow River and St. Croix Falls." 
 
 On February 12, 1851, the Illinois Legislature had approved a 
 charter for the formation of the Illinois and Wisconsin Railroad. 
 The charter granted authority to build from "the north line of 
 McIIenry County, Illinois, to Woodstock in the same county and 
 thence to a point on the Galena and Chicago Union Railroad in 
 Cook, Kane, and IMcHenry counties aiul within fifty years to build 
 
LAYINQTHEFOUNDATION 79 
 
 into Chicago and to connect with any railroad south of Cliicago and 
 through Indiana." 
 
 In March, 1855, the Rock River Valley Railroad Company was 
 granted permission by the Legislature of Wisconsin to consolidate 
 with the Illinois and Wisconsin. The former road had at this time 
 laid track between Minnesota Junction and Fond du Lac, a dis- 
 tance of about twenty-nine miles ; meanwhile the Illinois and Wis- 
 consin had built from Chicago northwesterly to Cary, Illinois, a 
 distance of about thirty-nine miles. 
 
 On March 30, 1855, the consolidation became official, and a new 
 corporation was formed which took the name of the Chicago, St. 
 Paul and Fond du Lac Railroad Company. During 1855 it extended 
 its line from Cary to Janesville — 52 miles. 
 
 Between June, 1856, and January, 1857, the Ontonagon and State 
 Line Railroad Company of Michigan, the Wisconsin and Superior 
 Railroad Company of Wisconsin, and the Marquette and State Line 
 Railroad Company of Michigan were all organized and given author- 
 ity to build beyond the northern end of the Chicago, St. Paul and 
 Fond du Lac. In March, 1857, according to plan, all three of these 
 lines were consolidated with the Chicago, St. Paul and Fond du 
 Lac. Putting their cards on the table along with the announcement, 
 the directors of the acquiring road stated: 
 
 The object and desire of the Chicago, St. Paul and Fond du Lac Rail- 
 road Company was the extension of their line from Janesville northwest 
 via ^Madison and La Crosse to St. Paul and from Janesville north along 
 the valley of Rock River to Fond du Lac and to the great iron and copper 
 regions of Lake Superior. 
 
 Thus we see the dream emerging into reality. William Butler Og- 
 den had accepted the presidency of the Illinois and Wisconsin 
 shortly before its merger with the Rock River Valley Union; at the 
 time of the merger, his brother-in-law, Charles Butler, was president 
 of the Rock River Valley Union. The Fond du Lac's Chicago depot, 
 taken over from the Illinois and Wisconsin, was between Kinzie 
 Street and Grand Avenue, close to the present location of Canal 
 Street. In May, 1857, the Milwaukee and Mississippi Railroad had 
 been finished as far as Prairie du Chien, and the Fond du Lac made 
 a deal with the Milwaukee and Mississippi so that it could run its 
 
so PIONEERRAILROAD 
 
 trains from Cliicago to Prairie du Chien, a distance of 227 miles, 
 without change. 
 
 Tlic consolidation with the Ontonaffon, the Wisconsin and Supe- 
 rior and the Marquette and State I^ine broufjht a spurt to close the 
 gap between Minnesota Junction, Wisconsin, and Gary, Illinois, this 
 being completed in '59 despite the panic and ensuing depression. 
 Thus, a continuous line from Chicago via Janesville to Fond du Lac 
 — 176 miles. The drive, financed in large measure by loans from 
 Ogden and his associates, had for its primary purpose the securing 
 of a land grant along this track approved by Congress for the de- 
 velopment of AVisconsin lines. However, a contest ensued in the State 
 Legislature, with the result that the Wisconsin solons moved the 
 location of the land grant so that it perched along the rights of 
 way of the newly constructed La Crosse and Milwaukee Railroad 
 Company and the as-yet-to-be-constructed Wisconsin and Superior 
 Railroad Company. The Wisconsinites evidently considered the 
 Chicago and Fond du Lac an Illinois venture although it had been 
 chartered in both states. However, between the date of the Legisla- 
 ture's edict, October, 1856, and January, 1857, the Fond du Lac 
 took over the Wisconsin and Superior, thus retrieving a portion of 
 the land grant — six sections, or 3,8-10 acres, per mile. Thus partial 
 justice was done, for Ogden and his associates had spent many weary 
 months in Washington getting Congress into the proper frame of 
 mind for approving the public lands grant before it came to the 
 State Legislature. 
 
 But the Fond du Lac had been traveling too fast for the country 
 — or more rightly, the country had not been traveling fast enough 
 for the Fond du Lac. It struggled valiantly through the first eight- 
 een months of the 1857 panic but defaulted on the interest on its 
 bonds and was finally forced into a bankruptcy petition. In Febru- 
 ary, 1859, the Illinois Legislature authorized sale, reorganization, 
 or both, and was followed by the Wisconsin Legislature a few weeks 
 later. At a meeting of the stockholders and bondholders, Samuel J. 
 Tilden and Ossian D. Ashley were appointed the road's agents. 
 
 Acting for the bondholders, James AVinslow, William A. Booth, 
 and James F. D. Lanier, as trustees, sold the road under foreclosure 
 at an auction held in Janesville, Wisconsin, June 2, 1859, to Tilden 
 and Ashley as agents. The latter, in turn, conveyed it a few days 
 
LAYING THE FOUNDATION 81 
 
 later to the Chicago and North Western Railway Company, which 
 was organized June 7, 1859, under concurrent special acts of the 
 legislatures of Illinois and Wisconsin, approved February 19 and 
 March 14, 1859, respectively. The price was $10,849,938 in the 
 stocks and bonds of the new purchasing comj^any. Ogden was elected 
 first president of the North Western with the following, besides him- 
 self, as members of the Board of Directors : Perry H. Smith. E. W. 
 Hutchins, G. M. Bartholomew, Charles Butler, Thomas H. Perkins, 
 Mahlon D. Ogden, A. C. Courtney, Henry Smith, J. R. Young, 
 J. J. R. Pease, M. C. Darling, and Albert Winslow. 
 
 By act, approved by the Wisconsin State Legislature in April, 
 1861, the Chicago and North Western Railway Company was au- 
 thorized to locate a line of its road, or a branch, by way of Fort 
 Howard (Green Bay), Wisconsin, to the north line of the state, at 
 the Menominee River. It was not built to Fort Howard until the fall 
 of 1862, as at that time (the spring of 1861) the road was unable to 
 meet the interest on its first mortgage bonds, and on April 11, 1861, 
 the bondholders held a meeting in New York City. The committee 
 then aj^pointed visited Chicago, to look over the valuable grounds 
 of the company, to report upon the best way out of the financial 
 embarrassment, and to ascertain whether it was expedient to ex- 
 tend the road from Appleton to Green Bay and west from Neenah 
 to Waupaca, Wisconsin. As was to be expected, although the ex- 
 tension was looked upon as important and as a necessary develop- 
 ment of the system soon to be made, the committee, after visiting 
 the towns and attending enthusiastic meetings, "withheld the recom- 
 mendation." 
 
 President Ogden decided on frontal attack ; he went direct to the 
 people of Brown County and at a meeting in Green Bay requested 
 a right of way to the town and offered $49,500 worth of North West- 
 ern stock — not easily negotiable — for an equivalent in county bonds 
 which were readily cashable. His principal argument was faith in 
 the future, but for the first time — and, in so far as we know, the last 
 — glamour girls were used to promote the construction of a railroad. 
 
 Ogden was accompanied on this journey by Perry H. Smith, vice- 
 president of the North Western and a former resident of Appleton. 
 Smith was acquainted with the Grignons of Kaukauna, an influ- 
 ential French family — at tliis time many of the residents of this sec- 
 
82 r I O N K K 11 U A 1 L H O A I) 
 
 tion were of Frcncli birth or French extraction, and the language 
 was even more in use in tlie region than English. Smith took Ogdcn 
 to visit the Grignons and also brought along a personable young 
 man of his actjuaintancc by the name of Vassar, whose first name 
 has not been passed on but who was described as a nephew of that 
 Vassar who founded the famous girls' college of the same name. Vas- 
 sar was a fluent French conversationalist. At the Grignon mansion, 
 the railroad men were hospitably entertained and introduced to the 
 three daughters of the house — a trio of "incomparable beauties," 
 Neither Ogden nor Smith was of an age and an appearance for the 
 stirring of girlish hearts — but not so Vassar; he came, he saw, and 
 he conquered. Nothing came of it in the romantic sense beyond flir- 
 tations on the part of Vassar and the three girls, but in the business 
 sense — which was what mattered to Ogden and Smith — the hard-to- 
 sell bonds of the North Western were finally exchanged for easily 
 negotiable Brown County bonds, the cash was secured — and the road 
 was completed to Green Bay. 
 
 It was Smith who suggested a campaign for the bond issue along 
 the banks of the Fox River. A steamboat was hired, a piano placed 
 on deck, and as the vessel proceeded leisurely' along the stream and 
 through the locks, the three lovely Grignon girls, "beautifully 
 dressed" — according to Mr. Smith — sang and danced for the en- 
 tertainment of visiting Brown County folks who loaded the boat 
 from stem to stern at every halt, while Vassar thrummed the piano. 
 The bond issue was oversubscribed. 
 
 The road as far as Green Bay was formally opened November I'.i, 
 1862. Congress had granted the North Western 80 acres from the 
 military reservation for depot purposes. Two large grain elevators 
 were constructed at the same time, one at Green Bay and the other 
 on the depot land in Chicago. 
 
J/ art ^/iree 
 
 NORTHWEST TERRITORY 
 
Cl 
 
 lapier ^0 
 
 TERRITORY IN NEED OF 
 A RAILROAD 
 
 Thus the stage was set. Eventually, the pioneer Galena and the 
 North Western would become one great system spanning the farm- 
 lands, the forests, and the empty plains of the Northwest. But first 
 a war was to intervene, and other railroads were to be built. They 
 had to be, but sometimes they were mighty slow in coming. 
 
 For instance, look at Minnesota. 
 
 Altliough there was a tremendous surge of railroad building in 
 the years between the start of the Galena and Chicago Union and 
 the advent of the Civil War, the Middle West had not come fully 
 into its own in railroad transportation. Wisconsin was developing, 
 but more as a lumber region than as an agrarian settler's goal, be- 
 cause of AVill Ogden's knowledge and appreciation of the value of 
 timber as an adjunct to conquest by civilization. In the Northwest, 
 however, up Minnesota way, the settlers were still trudging in pure 
 pioneer austerity when Lincoln made his first call for troops. 
 
 In Minnesota there were few people, no money, and little of anj'- 
 thing else save a mass courage — not cashable at the moment. Accord- 
 ing to the census taken when this bit of wilderness was given terri- 
 torial status, the population was 4,680 and assessable property 
 totaled $-il'i,936. All that saved the region from complete isolation 
 from the rest of the world was a system of broad and placid rivers 
 by which produce — if there should ever be any — might be freighted 
 down to the Mississippi. The only mart towns were a few sprawling 
 settlements on the great river, one of which was St. Paul. 
 
 The vast lands west of the Mississipjji were for the most part 
 unsettled and unsurveyed. 
 
 85 
 
8C N O It T U « K S T T K n R I T O tl Y 
 
 The early comers to the territory arc now classed as people of 
 fjreat coiiraj^e and endurance, as no doubt they were. In the hamlets 
 of civilization, where they had listened to tales of great riches in the 
 promised lands of the North Star country, they seem generally to 
 have been looked upon as simple crackpots — not a bad diagnosis on 
 the face of available evidence. But, whatever j'ou may say of the 
 melange of hopeful Swedes, Norwegians, Germans, and Irish who 
 began to pour into the tributary valleys of the upper Mississippi, 
 you can't deny that they dreamed great dreams. 
 
 When the first legislative Assembly convened, in 18-i9, Governor 
 Ramsey addressed it with evangelical optimism. He looked out from 
 the windows of a makeshift capitol at the sprawling shacks of a 
 makeshift river town better acquainted with canoes and rafts than 
 with the steamboats that elsewhere were making the Mississippi the 
 most important axis of commerce in the Middle West. Behind him, 
 had he bothered to look, stretched the blue-green barriers of a forest, 
 only partly explored and inhabited only by Indians and wild fauna. 
 He took a deep breath and said convincingly : 
 
 • Perhaps no portion of the earth's surface combines so many favorable 
 features for the settler as this territory. The immigrant and the capitalist 
 need but perceive these sources of prosperity and wealth to seize upon 
 tliem by settling among us. It should not be long ere we may with truth 
 be recognized throughout the political and moral world as the "polar 
 star" of the great republican galaxy. . . . 
 
 Brave words and truly prophetic, but only by crediting the gov- 
 ernor with a phenomenal gift of second sight can they be justified. 
 No matter what its friends might have said about it, the territory of 
 Minnesota all the way from what is now Duluth to the mouth of the 
 Big Sioux River over on the southeast corner of Dakota was still 
 Indian country. It might have remained so for many a year had it 
 not been for the success of men like Will Ogden and his belief that 
 rail transport had come to stay. 
 
 There was virtually no communication between the inland settle- 
 ments of the territory, such as they were. Mail came to St. Paul via 
 Prairie du Chien once a week during the season when the river was 
 free of ice. It was hauled overland twice a month during the winter. 
 Its progress into the hinterlands thereafter was dependent upon the 
 
TERRITORY IN NEED or A RAILROAD 87 
 
 whims of passing horsemen. The need for post roads was recognized 
 almost at once. Nine messages were sent on this subject to Congress 
 by the Territorial Assembly in 1849, and nine appropriations were 
 granted for the construction of what were euphemistically called 
 highways through the wilderness. 
 
 Over the Mississippi in Wisconsin Territory, of which Minnesota 
 had been a part, considerable work had been done to make the rivers 
 suitable for the distribution of goods. But by 1853 the hope that all 
 the bounty of the fabulous farmlands would go down to the sea in 
 sliips had begun to peter out. Even by that time and despite limited 
 production of grain in the few settlements there were increasing dif- 
 ficulties in water transportation. Few channels were deep enough 
 for navigation by steamboats ; canoes didn't hold much, and rafts 
 were difficult to manage. 
 
 The river communities continued to petition Congress that some- 
 thing be done about this situation. It was pointed out that even the 
 Mississippi — at least the upper end of it — could stand a lot of 
 dredging. But the Federal government wasn't interested in rivers. 
 Minnesota, still firm in the faith as expounded by Governor Ramsey, 
 began to look for its manifest destiny elsewhere. 
 
 Ogden's little Galena and Chicago Union Railway was pushing 
 out across the Illinois prairies from Chicago. Congress, thanks to 
 the arguments of Stephen A. Douglas, had voted aid for new rail- 
 roads in the shape of land grants. Governor Ramsey, eager to share 
 in similar largesse, asked the Assembly to memorialize Congress. The 
 Assembly took its time, but eventually complied. 
 
 Ramse3''s status as a prophet was being proved much more rap- 
 idly than is customary in such cases. It is still difficult to say whether 
 he was the most farseeing visionary or the most practical business 
 man of his time. He had a bit of luck when a peace treaty with the 
 Sioux was signed in February of 1853. But whatever the cause, the 
 world began to rush to his promising wilderness as he had so amaz- 
 ingly predicted. 
 
 By boat, prairie schooner, oxcart, and afoot, the starry-eyed pil- 
 grims began to pour into the promised land. They came at first from 
 as far as the eastern seaboard, by various water routes through the 
 Great Lakes and Chicago, by the venturous Galena to Frecport 
 and Dixon in Illinois, and then on to the Mississippi and deck 
 
88 NORTIIWESTTEnniTORY 
 
 passafje nortliward on a river steamer. Or they struggled overland 
 by stage across Wisconsin, 
 
 Wagons came over the newly constructed government roads to 
 meet the incoming horde at the steamboat landings or at the little 
 outfitting posts along the Mississippi, St. Croix, and Minnesota 
 rivers. These few contact points between the thinly spread civiliza- 
 tion of the Mississippi Valley and the dread isolation of the back 
 country continued to roar for many a j'ear. 
 
 One has come to think of the great westward trek In the years pre- 
 ceding the Civil War as something peculiarly linked with the gold 
 rush and the promised comforts of California. So It brings a shock 
 to discover how many of these travelers broke awaj' from the main 
 tide and spread northward. By 1857 the population had Increased 
 to 150,000, and taxable property totaled nearly fifty million dollars. 
 
 There was high hope In the land. It was hard to break the sod for 
 tillage, but the soil was good, and crops seemed easy to raise. The 
 East — and for that matter the gluttonous colossus, Chicago — 
 would pay a high price for Minnesota wheat and corn, provided a 
 way could be found to get the stuff to market. 
 
 So In St. Paul, which was presently to be the capital of a new 
 state, there was much talk about the fortunes that were waiting to 
 be wrested from the land as soon as producers and buyers could be 
 brought together, and even more conversation about the miracle 
 presently to be wrought by the railroads — all of which led to the 
 now classic remark of one Olaf Jensen, a cabinetmaker. 
 
 "There Is good money In coffins," he said, "If you can sell them." 
 
 Unlike many hegiras In human history, the movement Into the 
 Northwest turned directly to the farms. There were a few doctors, 
 lawyers, merchants, and engineers with the new citizenry. But only 
 a few. Ninety-nine per cent of the Incoming thousands moved on 
 the land offices where government tracts were being sold at $1.25 an 
 acre to homesteaders who would agree to establish residence and 
 cultivate the tracts they bought. 
 
 At the end of 1854, 500,000 acres of Minnesota land had been sold 
 that way. During the next year settlers took up 1,000,000 more. In 
 1858, 2,500,000 acres were similarly transferred. 
 
 Dwellings of one sort or another began to spring up In numbers 
 In the hardwood regions along the watercourses. Numerous villages 
 
TERRITORY IN NEED OF A RAILROAD 89 
 
 blossomed bravely, sometimes in the most inaccessible places. The 
 woods began to echo to the whine of sawmills and the creak of water 
 wheels turning out grist. There was a fine demand for lumber as 
 new waves of populace came in from the East, a demand for flour 
 that increased as the frontier became aware of the panic of 1857 — 
 still the railroads didn't come. 
 
 Reading the stirring speeches over the proposition of Minnesota's 
 statehood, one is likely to forget that things were still fairly primi- 
 tive back in the tall timber even then. One of the arguments for ad- 
 mission to the Union was based on a prophecy : A great transcon- 
 tinental railroad was to be built from the Mississippi Valley to the 
 Pacific Northwest, and Minnesota had to be made a state and given 
 proper representation in Washington to protect her own interests. 
 Minnesota had to have the self-determination by which she could 
 make herself the wealthiest state in the Union. But the sturdy elec- 
 tors who were willing to fight for their right to become wealthy didn't 
 look very wealthy. The plush ease of transcontinental rail travel may 
 have been close at hand, but it must have been difficult to envision 
 when one considered it from the seat of a jolting wagon or the damp 
 bottom of a canoe. 
 
 The first settlers in Minnesota Territory built and lived in log 
 cabins. So did the greater number of those who followed them. In 
 time settlers around Stillwater built frame houses — for sawmills 
 were plentiful in the region, and lumber easy to get. But there weren't 
 too many of these modern and, one fears, ostentatious dwellings. 
 The better-favored settlers, until the time of the Civil War, lived in 
 log houses. The less fortunate — the lads who found their homestead 
 acreage on prairie land far from a supply of wood — lived in sod 
 shanties of the sort you have heard about in the lyrics of the period : 
 
 Oh, the hinges were of leather 
 And the windows had not glass 
 
 And the cracks they let the howling blizzards in. 
 
 You could hear the hungry coyotes 
 As they snuck up through the grass 
 In my little old sod shanty on the plain. 
 
90 NOnTIIWESTTERRITOnY 
 
 They weren't luxurious — these sod houses — but as an example of 
 pioneer resourcefulness they deserve a rating by the architectural 
 societies. To build one you took a hatchet or some similar tool and 
 cut out of the prairie pieces of sod a foot wide, a foot and a half 
 long, and some four inches thick. These were laid like brick and held 
 in position by a mortar made of white clay mixed with buffalo grass. 
 The roof consisted of poles held close together with willow twigs and 
 covered with sod. Windows and door frames were cut into the walls 
 with an ax. Floors were generally made of dirt tamped down with a 
 flat rock, though sometimes they were covered with boards or squares 
 of bark. 
 
 Such dwellings were heated by a sheet-iron stove known to the 
 trade as an "airtight." It produced pretty good results with a small 
 amount of fuel. Inasmuch as it was designed, for purposes of econ- 
 omy, to prevent quick combustion, it probably generated a lot of 
 carbon monoxide. But the normal leakage of the house made monox- 
 ide a matter of no moment. And the tall stovepij^e sticking up eight 
 or ten feet above the roof made a fair ventilator when the premises 
 were completely snowed in. 
 
 The fuel, one should add, was just as novel as the stove. It con- 
 sisted of dry prairie hay twisted into hard knots — as well as buffalo 
 chips — and is said to have lasted quite well in hay-burning equipment 
 — and maybe it did. 
 
 Stables outside the wooded areas were even more elementary than 
 houses. To build one of these you set out four corner posts and out- 
 lined the walls with a sort of latticework of rails and poles. Over this 
 latticework, at threshing time, you piled wheat straw. In the same 
 fashion you contrived a roof. The keeping of grain was a consider- 
 able problem. What couldn't be marketed had to be stored, and there 
 were few granaries in the territory. Most farmers made bins out of 
 rails and lined them with hay or straw to keep the grain from run- 
 ning out. 
 
 Minnesota, after the Civil War, had begun to sjiow signs of living 
 up to the advance notices of tiie orators of tiie late fifties, but it was 
 not until the seventies that barns, granaries, frame houses, and 
 drilled wells could be had in many parts of the state. 
 
 Living began by being hard. It continued to be uncomfortable. 
 
TERRITORY IN NEED OF A RAILROAD yi 
 
 Pioneers off the paths of transportation remained pioneers long 
 after they had served their apprenticeship. 
 
 Settlers coming into the state as late as 1880 still had to face the 
 job of breaking the sod. In the eighties some of them had steel plows. 
 Their predecessors for the most part — and that includes 90 per cent 
 of those who were demanding statehood and a transcontinental rail- 
 road in 1858 — had been forced to get along with wooden implements. 
 
 Out of sheer necessity, neighbors formed little associations to help 
 one another in such jobs. Sometimes it took ten yoke of oxen to pull 
 a plow through the tough mat of weather-packed earth and grass 
 roots. Before the sod was broken the prairie hay was cut off with a 
 scythe — sometimes as much as three or four tons to the acre — and 
 carried to stacks on peeled poles. Professionals toured the farm belts 
 offering to do both these jobs for from eight to twelve dollars an 
 acre. 
 
 Considering that the original price of the land had been $1.25 an 
 acre, there were some Minnesota economists who thought the cost of 
 preparation a little too high. 
 
 After the broken land had been allowed to lie fallow a year, it was 
 sown by hand. It was harvested with a scythe and threshed — gener- 
 ally — with a flail or under the hoofs of horses. 
 
 Community life had developed considerably during the late fifties 
 — at least a farmer was usually fairly close to his own kind. Circuit 
 riding doctors provided him with medical care of a sort or at any 
 rate gave him the feeling that he could get help if he needed it. 
 School buildings were to be found in ever}' settlement and had become 
 the center of social activities. Itinerant preachers used them for 
 religious services ; amateur theatrical groups used them for theaters ; 
 farmers visited in them on wintry evenings. A man no longer had to 
 be lonely. And the old lads who walked from their sod shanties to the 
 log schoolhouse on nights when it was thirty below, and sat around 
 the stove discussing how much they'd get for their wheat if they 
 could sell it anywhere, probably thought they were getting soft with 
 too much prosperity. 
 
 But were they? They went to bed early at night because they 
 had nothing much else to do. House lighting was a problem. Tallow 
 dips sold for thirty cents a dozen — sperm candles for fifty cents a 
 
yz NORTHWESTTEnniTOnY 
 
 dozen — and inasmuch as a man might go a month in the hitc fifties 
 without seeing a dollar — well, few people invested in candles. 
 
 Beds were made with rope nets serving as springs. You slept on a 
 straw tick stuffed with straw and covered yourself with a mattress 
 stuffed with wild-goose feathers. There was nothing sybaritic about 
 the feather bed. Its chief function was to keep the occupant from 
 freezing to death when the fire died out in the night. 
 
 For months on end you lived on your own products which, in 
 those days of undivcrsified farming and simple dietetics, consisted 
 of dried beef, smoked pork, potatoes, and grits. You got wool for 
 clothing by shearing your own sheep. Your wife carded it, spun it 
 into yarn, and made it up into homespun. She likewise made soap by 
 leaching wood ashes for lye, which she boiled with grease. 
 
 You toiled in the stifling days of valley summers in the fields. At 
 dawn you were up and about caring for your cattle — good weather 
 or bad. You looked to your own comfort, if an}', after the last ani- 
 mal had been fed — but why go on with it.'' 
 
 This is the old story of the pioneer unaltered and unimproved in 
 the telling since the days of the worthy Pilgrims. It is the story of 
 the Colonies and the Cumberlands and the Western Reserve and Chi- 
 cago and Salt Lake City. But there's a difference. This time it is 
 the story not of a savage waste beyond the pale of settlement, but 
 of a great and prosperous state in fairly recent times. It is the 
 story of able men who spun their own wool almost in the shadow of 
 active cloth mills, who harvested their grain by hand within a possi- 
 ble day's journey of the IMcCormick reaper works; who, in an area 
 profusely wooded and well provided with sawmills, eked out their 
 dreary days in sod shanties. In other words, it is the picture of the 
 winning of the West before the coming of the railroad. 
 
 One notes in the diary of Mitchell Y. Jackson * that because of the 
 sudden influx of prospective wheat farmers in the middle fifties, the 
 territory suddenly found itself facing a demand greater than the 
 available supply of grain. Food was hauled up to St. Paul, La Cres- 
 cent, and Winona from older settlements far down the river, and 
 flour was an article of import until the end of 1857. 
 
 The cost of transportation continued to be an unpredictable dif- 
 
 • Jackson, Mitchell Y., Minnesota Farmer's Diaries, Minnesota Historical Soci- 
 ety, 1939. 
 
TERRITORY IN NEED OF A RAILROAD 93 
 
 ferential between what a farmer earned and what he was going to 
 have left to spend. 
 
 Farm products brought high prices for a while during the pre- 
 war boom, but fell so low during the 1857 depression that it seemed 
 profitless to try to market them. Army demands brought better — 
 theoretical — prices. Issuance of paper money by the Federal govern- 
 ment ended a couple of j'ears of what had become primitive barter. 
 But Jackson observed that the prices of crops and the prices of farm 
 necessities never quite leveled off. 
 
 Transportation costs, of course, worked against the resident of 
 the upper Mississippi area both ways. They had to be deducted from 
 whatever he might receive at a terminal market. Tliey had to be 
 added to anything he might buy for his farm or his family. 
 
 In 1860 there was a spread of as much as 22 cents a bushel in the 
 price of wheat between Stillwater and Milwaukee. A cost sheet of 
 the period shows why. (The figures are the cost in cents per bushel.) 
 
 Commission for buying, sacking, aud shipping . 04 
 
 Insurance and wastage . 005 
 
 Depreciation on sacks 0.01 
 
 Sale expense, Milwaukee . 015 
 
 Freight, Stillwater-Milwaukee 0. 15 
 
 Total 0.23 
 
 In that year there were some fantastic transactions in food. Some- 
 thing more than a quarter million pounds of pork were packed and 
 sold at St. Peter for an average price of 3% cents a pound. Chickens 
 were scarce, and there is the record of one man who paid five dollars 
 in gold for a hen, raised fifteen chickens, and sold them for twenty 
 dollars. He incurred one exceptional bit of expense, however. He paid 
 another five dollars for a cat to protect his growing flock from field 
 mice. 
 
 A few months later, Jackson noted in his diary : 
 
 January, Saturday 31st — Drive to St. Paul with load of meal, etc. 
 Chilly. I sold flour today at $5.00 per bbl. which is higher than it has been 
 for two years or more. Whilst most kinds of goods have been steadily 
 advancing for a year, produce has kept low, but now both flour and pork 
 begin to feel the effects of the more abundant supply of money or the 
 paper currency that is taking the place of money. Heavy brown sheeting 
 
f) * NORTHWEST TERRITORY 
 
 one yard wide is held at 40 cents a yard wliich is an advance of 300 per 
 cent in less tlian two years. Sugar that we have been buying at 8 cents 
 a pound now is bringing fifteen cents. Crushed sugar now costs I673 
 cents per pound. Tliese are war times. . . , 
 
 Those were war times, thou/rh how an average farmer working 
 average soil in the backwoods could determine their difference from 
 peace times is difficult to say. 
 
 Anthony Trollope, in a report on travel in the Missis.si])pi Valley 
 in the early sixties, tells of watching the IMinnesota troops on their 
 way to war. He rightly judges them to be the tough fighting men 
 they actually were. He speaks admiringly of their casual but effec- 
 tive discipline, their excellent behavior, and their innate intelligence. 
 But he overlooks one point, because nobody has bothered to tell him 
 what he is looking at, and the woods are too wide and too thick for 
 him to see for himself. He is witnessing what may well rate as the 
 Civil War's biggest troop movement west of the Mississippi River. 
 He watches it spread over the landing stages and up the planks to 
 the decks of the waiting river steamboats. It is an impressive mobili- 
 zation without undue haste, but also without confusion or delay. 
 But what the distinguished visitor doesn't know is that this fine 
 concentration of arms is the end product of a series of long route 
 marches, individual horseback rides, canoe trips, and cross-country 
 treks through what he, or any other Englishman of his time, would 
 class as a jungled desolation. A squad or two at a time, they had 
 straggled into the river settlements. Hundreds — thousands — of them 
 had answered the call unquestioningly. 
 
 And now, as Trollope saw them, they were getting aboard the 
 steamboats headed south. They were, as he described them, fine brave 
 men of great resourcefulness and spirit. They carried new rifles. 
 They looked like other bodies of soldiery he had seen before, only 
 much more striking. And yet, he might have been told, if they were 
 to be consistent in their defense of the type of civilization from which 
 they had just come down to the river, they might have been better 
 armed with bows and arrows. 
 
 A few miles of strap rail had been laid in Minnesota before Lin- 
 coln's call for volunteers, but not yet enough to make any difference 
 in the region's primitive economy or social discomfort. 
 
Cl 
 
 'lapter // 
 
 TWIN CITIES IN THE 
 WILDERNESS 
 
 Without railroads it seemed foreordained from the beginning that 
 the large settlements in Minnesota must lie along the Mississippi. 
 The Minnesota River was trickily navigable during part of the year, 
 but then only with small craft and at high prices. The rise of such 
 towns as Mankato, New Ulm, Le Sueur, and Rochester was due to 
 the settlers' courage in almost constant defeat. The state was no 
 more able to dig channels than it was able to finance rail lines, and 
 bumper wheat crops frequently lay immovable in granaries of the 
 Minnesota Valley for two years on end at no profit to anybody. Only 
 if you could move the grain to landings on the big river could you 
 trade it for tools and clothing and other tokens of domestic com- 
 fort. Which accounts for the strange metropolitan conceit known 
 as the Twin Cities. 
 
 Somebody has said that Minneapolis came into being because sol- 
 diers needed sour dough, and that St. Paul was founded in a river 
 front grogshop — which probably gives one the wrong impression. 
 The bored Indian fighters, turned millers, had abandoned their 
 project at St. Anthony's Falls long before Minneapolis got its odd 
 name on the early maps. And to classify Pierre Parrant's whisky 
 shanty as St. Paul, even briefly, comes under the head of careless 
 diagnosis. Admitted that Pierre Parrant was the first settler within 
 what are now St. Paul's city limits ; that he sold alcoholic corrosives 
 to soldiers from the near-by fort ; that he put up a shack that might 
 be identified as a dwelling as well as a business house — still nobody 
 looked upon the place as a city even in embryo. And whatever else 
 
 95 
 
NORTHWEST TEnnlTOHY 
 
 Pierre Parrant niiglit liave been, he was definitely not a settlement. 
 
 The land he held in trust for the future St. Paul was given a dif- 
 ferent name by the soldiery. They called it "Pig's Eye" — a descrip- 
 tive place name having to do with the proprietor's face. 
 
 Mendota, a trading post at the junction of the Minnesota and 
 Mississippi rivers, was the center of the Red River fur trade in the 
 early thirties. It might well have prospered and gathered in the com- 
 munities that made up St. Paul and Minneapolis. But it was laid out 
 on government land to which nobody had bothered to obtain title. 
 So it died, or at any rate settled down into an unbroken coma. 
 
 The French had gone, or most of them, at the time of the Louisi- 
 ana Purchase, leaving names to be perpetuated in a whole series of 
 parks and public buildings and statues and streets in cities they 
 could never have dreamed of. 
 
 The Treaty of Ghent in ISl-t ended British authority over the 
 Mississippi Vallej'. His JMajesty's troops moved out of Prairie du 
 Chien and up into Canada. John Jacob Astor's American Fur Com- 
 pany moved in two years later. The Army, as usual, followed the fur 
 trade, and in 1820 Colonel Josiah Snelling established the fort which 
 has since borne his name. 
 
 Colonel Snelling ordered the construction of two mills on the west 
 side of St. Anthony's Falls, upriver from Pig's Eye's groggery. One 
 was put to immediate use cutting lumber for the buildings of the fort. 
 The other was a grist mill which was to see intermittent service mak- 
 ing flour out of such wheat as the military could be induced to grow. 
 Settlers moved in and took claims adjoining the falls. Pierre Botti- 
 neau, who fills a place in local legend second only to that of Paul 
 Bun3'an, joined forces with Franklin Steele and built a dam and saw- 
 mill on the east side of the falls. More settlers, mostly of French and 
 Indian extraction, came to look into the possibilities of this unusual 
 industrial venture. The fact that Steele and Bottineau turned out 
 to be the owners of all the land along the east bank apparently made 
 no difference. Some 250 persons stayed, and the village of St. 
 Anthony was on its way to become East ]\Iinncapolis. 
 
 In 1838 a few families of Franco-Swiss refugees from a colony 
 on the Red River were ordered off the military reservation where 
 they had haphazardly settled. They moved across the river and there 
 discovered the shack of Pierre Parrant. Despite lack of any encour- 
 
TWINCITIESINTHEWILDEHNESS 97 
 
 agement from Parrant, they built shacks of their own and sat down 
 to stay. Friends of the newcomers came to join them, and the little 
 community grew and, as far as possible, prospered. 
 
 The name of the place remained Pig's Eye until the coming of 
 Father Lucian Galtier in October of 1841. With the aid of the popu- 
 lace he built a chapel which he consecrated on November 1 to St. 
 Paul, whose name he also gave to his newly organized parish. His 
 congregation seemed pleased at the change. But Pierre Parrant 
 wasn't. He moved a couple of miles down river and founded another 
 one-man settlement named Pig's Eye whose title sui-vives on maps 
 if nowhere else. 
 
 Pig's Eye or St. Paul, St. Anthony or Minneapolis, nothing much 
 happened to these settlements for another ten years or until some- 
 body got around to making a working agreement with the Indians. 
 Treaties with the Sioux in 1851 and the Chippewa in 1854 produced 
 some business for the mills at St. Anthony's Falls. Wheat began to 
 come down the rivers in flatboats and canoes. The world of civiliza- 
 tion—which is to say St. Louis, or maybe Prairie du Chien — began 
 to hear about Minnesota flour, and not until then could anybody 
 have predicted that these communities would ever be more than a 
 Mississippi River landing place. 
 
 The population of St. Paul in 1849, when Minnesota was made a 
 territory, was 840; that of St. Anthony, 10 miles away, about 250. 
 St. Paul had a school, chapel, hotel, post office, warehouses, stores, 
 and about 125 homes. St. Anthony had two mills, a store, post office, 
 school, and a few dwellings. But St. Anthony also had an undeclared 
 asset in the person of Colonel John H. Stevens, a Mexican War hero. 
 
 The government had given the colonel permission to build a house 
 on the military reservation on the west side of the falls, and there he 
 had settled, causing no trouble to anj'body until some of his friends 
 moved in alongside him without consulting the authorities. Wliile 
 argument over their right to remain was still going on, other people 
 moved in — Yankee settlers who declared they had as good a right to 
 stay on government land as anybody else. 
 
 The soldiery came repeatedly to tear down their cabins and drive 
 them away. But always they came back to start the debate all over 
 again. In the end they won. W^ashington got word of the turmoil and 
 
98 NORTHWEST TEnnlTOnY 
 
 solved tlie problem by reducing the size of the Fort Snelling reser- 
 vation and giving the squatters title to their disputed land. 
 
 By that time quite a hamlet had grown up around the Falls, in 
 what is now tlie Minneapolis downtown district. Somebody suggested 
 that thev call the place Watertown. But that didn't sound grand 
 enough for Colonel Stevens' close advisors ; learnedly, they prepared 
 a translation — rmnnie (Sioux for "water") and polls (Greek for 
 "city"). An "a" was furnished for euphony by the St. Anthony 
 Express editor who reported the meeting — and there you have Min- 
 neapolis. 
 
 The towns, despite all that historians and writers have written 
 about them, were never really twins. 
 
 St. Paul became the territorial capital because it was not only 
 the biggest town in Minnesota in 18-19 but virtually the only one. 
 Despite the ambitions of other cities after the signing of the Sioux 
 treaties it remained the capital because for years no other locality 
 in the region had its facilities as a trading post. It became, natu- 
 rally, a jobbing and distribution center. 
 
 Minneapolis, thanks to its water power, became a milling town, 
 a manufacturing town ; and though these differences were no longer 
 pronounced, the variation in civic outlook that they produced re- 
 mains today. 
 
 St. Paul, during the middle fifties and war j-ears, was a roaring 
 place with a large transient population. Minneapolis seemed to have 
 more permanence. But always when the rival populations sat down 
 to consider their prospects they arrived at the same troubling fac- 
 tor. Whether to haul grain to the mills at St. Anthony's Falls or to 
 bring back trade goods from civilization to the wilderness by way 
 of St. Paul, the rivers were hopelessly inadequate. So the two most 
 important river towns in the Northwest became the state's loudest 
 and most active proponents of the railroads. 
 
 The rise of the cities through circumstances of environment, natu- 
 ral resources, and changing conditions in transportation is a story 
 that has been duplicated elsewhere. But nowhere has the interrela- 
 tion of commerce and transportation been given so magnificent and 
 visible a form. Here, where the mills have been built and the rails 
 have been laid, great masses of white C3'linders rise against the sky, 
 
TWINCITIESINTHE WILDERNESS 99 
 
 a breathtaking phalanx of incredible pillars. Here, but for geog- 
 raphy, is a more majestic projection of the palace of the popes at 
 Avignon, a vaster conception of Toussaint L'Ouverture's hilltop 
 fortress. These are the mills, the grain elevators, the architecture of 
 wheat, more striking temples to Ceres than ever came out of classic 
 Greece. 
 
 Alongside them rolls the railroad that made them possible because 
 it made them necessary. One need look no farther to see the miracle 
 wrought by the men who brought the rails into the wilderness. 
 
Cl 
 
 'lanler ^2 
 
 THE RAILS COME TO MINNESOTA 
 
 Finally the railroads came to ]\Iinnesota, but not witlioiit trials 
 and tribulations that would have discouraged a less hardy people. 
 Still, the result was worth waiting for ; for out of the tangle of rail- 
 road projects and financial difficulties was to be born another great 
 link in the North Western system — the Chicago, Saint Paul, Min- 
 neapolis and Omaha. It was not to make its debut until the roaring 
 seventies and eighties, but this is the way it began. 
 
 The spread of civilization through the West seems to have been 
 encouraged in a variety of wa3's during the years immediately pre- 
 ceding the Civil War — gold in California, a promised land in Utah, 
 roaring markets in Chicago, steamboats on the southern rivers. But 
 the old Northwest Territory was too original for any such tech- 
 niques. In this region — last stamping ground of the harried pioneer 
 — the advent of the railroad — and de facto the advent of culture 
 and comfort — came about through a legislative act to exterminate 
 gophers, blackbirds, and Sioux Indians. 
 
 Nobody engaged in the railroad business anj'where in the United 
 States in the early fifties seems to have been willing to let his right 
 hand know what his left hand was doing. Across northern Illinois, 
 William Ogden's railway had pushed on toward the ]Mississippi. 
 Tentacles were reaching out from the parent line toward iMilwaukee 
 and up into Wisconsin's timberlands. The Chicago prophets of steam 
 were still beholding grand visions. . . . Presently there would be 
 lines extending northwest into the last great wilderness — lines cross- 
 ing the continent — lines binding together a million scattered, iso- 
 lated settlements into a compact national unity. Everybody in the 
 Middle West was able to recognize the glorious inevitable when he 
 saw it. But few of these seers would have been likely to identify des- 
 tiny with a plague of gophers in tlie Minnesota Valley. 
 
 100 
 
THE RAILS COME TO MINNESOTA 101 
 
 Despite the fact that the Minnesota Territory's way of life was 
 outwardly more primitive than that of any other district east of 
 the Rockies, the natives somehow had contrived to find out what was 
 going on in the world. The story of the railroads and the relation- 
 ships between cheap transportation and a community's physical 
 well-being was in continuous circulation. And by 1855 the territorial 
 Legislature was constantly listening to the harangues of young men 
 trying to go somewhere. 
 
 Seven lines had already been chartered by special legislation. 
 Another eight were under discussion, and every sizable community 
 had its promoters anxious to share in prospective Federal grants. 
 
 Governor Willis A. Gorman was somewhat distressed by these 
 proceedings. What he wanted and argued for in the Legislature and 
 with visiting committees was a single road that would connect the 
 territory with the outside world. The local enthusiasts on the other 
 hand wanted a gridwork of steel across the back areas so that they 
 would be able to get their grain as far as the Mississippi and bring a 
 few conveniences into the wilderness. Early in 1857 Congress passed 
 an act making land grants to four Minnesota railroads whose routes 
 were designated in a general way. And that ended a lot of amateur 
 enthusiasm for railroading, although it did not immediately bring 
 about the laying of many miles of rail. 
 
 The system that came under the land grants wasn't too bad. First 
 there was the present line of the Great Northern Railway westward 
 across the territory; second, a line from St. Paul along the valley 
 of the Minnesota and southwest to the Missouri River; third, a 
 route from Winona to St. Peter on the Minnesota River ; and fourth, 
 the Root River and Southern Minnesota to build through the Root 
 River Valley to Rochester. None of these developments was likely 
 to bring a bush farmer in, say. Lake Benton, any closer to Madison, 
 Wisconsin. But at least they would enable him to get a look at other 
 settlements that were said to lie somewhere on the other side of the 
 hills. There would be sales depots at junction points on the lines 
 where he could dispose of his potatoes and wheat without having 
 to haul them all the way to the big river. And, no matter where 
 or why he might want to go, travel was going to be a lot easier 
 in a railroad coach than on the back of a horse. 
 
NORTHWEST TEURITOnT 
 
 Tile leader of tlie coalition that had worked out the four-company 
 railroad system favored by Congress was Edmund Rice of St. Paul, 
 brother of the Minnesota delegate to Congress. The incorporators 
 were Minncsotans, leaders in both great political parties and men 
 of substance and influence in their own communities. 
 
 These men had no difficulty overcoming scattered and inept oppo- 
 sition in Washington. The government aid bill, passed on March 3, 
 1857, conveyed to them nearly 6,000,000 acres of public lands. The 
 people of the territory were highly pleased as they began to have 
 hopes for a new and better life. The railroads had been long in com- 
 ing, they said. But they would be free from the domination of finan- 
 cial cliques in Chicago or the East. They would be owned at home 
 and controlled at home. And they'd make a paradise out of the 
 Northwest. 
 
 An extra session of the Legislature was called in April, 1857, to 
 pass railroad bills specifying territories and conditions affecting 
 the land grants. An early proposal to deal with the whole matter 
 in a consolidated bill was defeated in the House. The separate bills 
 then were carried through to third reading when, once more, senti- 
 ment was developed in favor of merging the three as an omnibus. We 
 come now to the interesting matter of the gophers, blackbirds, and 
 other fauna of tiie Northwest Territory. 
 
 While sundry committees and subcommittees had been sweating 
 over the transportation business, the House, just to occupy its 
 time, had passed a bill encouraging the destruction of gophers and 
 blackbirds. In due course the bill was sent to the Council, the upper 
 house, for concurrence.* 
 
 The Council, in a similarly playful mood, amended the bill to 
 encourage, also, the destruction of Sioux Indians. On May 20, how- 
 ever, the Council called up the gopher matter for further considera- 
 tion, amended it, and sent it back to the House. 
 
 The next day the House, after some argument, approved the 
 amended form of its "Bill to Encourage the Destruction of Gophers 
 and Blackbirds." Everything after the enacting clause of the origi- 
 nal measure had been stricken out, and in its place was an omnibus 
 railroad bill vesting the land grant in four corporations. 
 
 This, you might say, was an odd beginning for such an institution 
 
 * Folwell, W. W., Mlntifxola HUtorical Socictn Collections, vol. 15. 
 
THE RAILS COME TO MINNESOTA 103 
 
 as the Chicago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha Railway', though 
 it undoubtedly was. 
 
 The transportation act had a double effect on the destinies of 
 the Root River Valley road. For, aside from conferring the Federal 
 land grant in aid of the line, it also specified the course it was to 
 follow. One road was to be built through the Root River Valley to 
 a junction with the line from Winona at Rochester. Another, which 
 turned out to be the nucleus of a great system, was authorized to 
 run from St. Paul and St. Anthony through Minneapolis and up 
 the Minnesota Valley to IMankato, and thence to the territorial 
 boundary in the direction of the mouth of the Big Sioux River. 
 
 The name of the road was changed from the Root River and 
 Southern Minnesota Railroad Company to the Southern IVIinnesota 
 Railroad Company, after which formality everybody sat back and 
 waited for the first train whistle. They were a long time waiting. 
 There was plenty of trouble in store for the railroads, although 
 nothing untoward seems to have happened to the gophers. Hardly 
 a railroad man is now alive who remembers anything about them at 
 all. 
 
 Great upsurges in human progress seem to follow a definite pat- 
 tern — at least in so far as they have anything to do with the housing 
 problem. Once the four favored corporations had been endowed, the 
 boom was on. Nobody bothered to wait for the laying of any rails. 
 As far as the public attitude was concerned the roads were presumed 
 to have gone miraculously into the running of trains as soon as they 
 got a legal permit. 
 
 New villages sprang up here and there more or less in the path 
 of the projected lines. New sawmills began to promote an unprece- 
 dented traffic on the rivers. They ran night and day, no matter how 
 far they might be from settlements. 
 
 So of course there was land speculation. There always is. In the 
 winter of 1856 thousands of acres of unimproved land — some of it 
 near human habitation, most of it not — changed hands at a dollar 
 and a quarter an acre. The spring of 1857 saw these tracts surveyed 
 and recorded as city lots. By the end of June they were selling for 
 as much as fifty dollars an acre even when there wasn't a single cabin 
 in sight of the new "city," and despite the fact that there might be 
 another paper town barely a mile distant. 
 
104 NORTHWEST TERnlTORY 
 
 In a few of the older communities,* wiiich seemed iii<ely to be 
 favored by the railroad constructors when they got around to it, 
 the boom got off to a better start. It was not unusual for a well-lo- 
 cated lot — the value of the location determined by guess and hope — 
 to be bought for five hundred dollars in the morning and sold for one 
 thousand dollars the same night. Such haphazard judgment has 
 been part of the process of getting rich quick since long before 1857. 
 
 In bits of mud flat that imaginative traders pointed out as corner 
 lots, water-power sites, or factory property, the hope for quick 
 profit was greater and the margin of risk correspondingly higher. 
 Business locations on the near North Side of Chicago could have 
 been bought in 1857 for less than a backlot in Sleepy Eye of the same 
 period. 
 
 Ordinary land was up almost 300 per cent, no matter where found, 
 and iMitchell Y. Jackson, the diarist elsewhere quoted, mentions that 
 he grew wealthy in Minnesota, but not through farming. Rising land 
 values would have made him rich if he had never turned a sod. 
 
 The end of the boom came quickly. The Minnesota constitutional 
 convention was stiU in session when the Ohio Life Insurance and 
 Trust Company of New York collapsed. Other banking and invest- 
 ment houses in the east went into bankruptcy and the panic was on. 
 
 The bad news reached Minnesota quickly enough despite inade- 
 quate communications. Several thousand speculators started back 
 to the outside world as they had come, over the dim trails downriver 
 in boats, in carts, on horseback, or afoot. In three years, according 
 to the report of the State Commissioner of Statistics, the urban 
 population decreased 20 per cent."!" 
 
 St. Paul, the capital that in the preceding ten years had become 
 a flourishing city, lost half its population between the collapse of 
 the land boom and the beginning of the Civil War. Prospects for 
 the new railroads began to look very bad indeed. Not one of the four 
 seemed to be in a position at the end of 1857 to start laying track. 
 There was every likelihood that the Federal land grants would re- 
 vert to the government because of the companies' inability to meet 
 the specified time limits on construction. 
 
 In this emergency the Legislature, aware of the extent to which 
 
 * Red Wing is cited in Parker, Minnesota Handbook for 1856. 
 + Comm. of Statistics, State of Minnesota, Report of Jan. 1, 1860. 
 
THE RAILS COME TO MINNESOTA lUO 
 
 lack of transportation was affecting the state's internal economy', 
 decided to bring help. A constitutional amendment was proposed 
 (and a year later adopted) providing for what is generally called 
 "the five-million-doUar loan." 
 
 Under the terms of the amendment the state was authorized to 
 issue bonds to the value of $1,250,000 to each of the four land-grant 
 railroad corporations. The rate of delivery was to be $100,000 for 
 every 10 miles of graded road and another $100,000 for every 10 
 miles "actually completed and cars running thereon." 
 
 It was provided that the railroads were to bear the expenses con- 
 nected with the issue and to pay interest for which they pledged 
 their net profits. Each company was to deed to the governor and 
 Secretary of State the first 140 sections accruing to it under the 
 land grant. Each was to post as security first-mortgage bonds on 
 its road's lands and franchises. And, finally, it was provided that 
 each was to complete 50 miles of railroad by the end of 1861, 100 
 miles before 1865, and four-fifths of its projected line by 1866. 
 
 Some odd financial theory went along with all this. Proponents 
 of the railroad relief program argued that the state was not incur- 
 ring any debt. In issuing bonds to aid such necessary utilities, Min- 
 nesota was merely lending its credit (against adequate collateral), 
 so they said. And as assurance that there should be no future claims 
 against the state, the act provided that the favored companies should 
 make provision for the payment of the bonds, principal and interest, 
 when due.* 
 
 Under this arrangement, it was believed, nobody in the state ad- 
 ministration need have any further concern about the bonds except 
 to see that they were delivered promptly as the construction of rail- 
 road grades progressed. In token of this faith, sixty-seven legislators 
 who had voted for the act pledged themselves never to support taxes 
 to redeem the bonds. f 
 
 The governor approved the amendment on March 9, 1858, and the 
 people voted for it by "an overwhelming majority" six weeks later. 
 
 The Southern Minnesota accepted the conditions of the relief 
 program and in the late summer of 1858 began work on a grade be- 
 
 * Minnesota Historical Society Collections, vol. 15, p. 196. 
 
 t Ultimately redeemed by Minnesota Railway Adjusting Bonds, 1881, and Min- 
 nesota Refunding Bonds, 1910. Ibid., p. 214. 
 
106 N o n T H W E S T T K It n I T o n Y 
 
 twccn Mendota and Shakopce. Construction was resumed in Janu- 
 ary, 1859, but b_v that time trouble was already close at hand. 
 
 Sonic of the railroads refused to give an exclusive first mortgage 
 to tlic state and defeated the governor in the courts. Outside the 
 courts nobody seemed to regard the bonds as state obligations. So 
 the collapse of the plan came quickly. Bonds that at first had found 
 eager buyers at par were presently unsalable at any reasonable 
 price. 
 
 By July 1, 1859, they were so low that they could no longer be 
 used as collateral. On that date the Southern Minnesota had com- 
 pleted 37/^2 miles of preliminary construction for which contractors 
 were loudly demanding pay. 
 
 The state had issued .$2,275,000 in bonds. And as the Committee 
 on Railroad Grants and Bonds re])orted in the House journal for 
 1859-1860 (p. 390): "All that could be shown for this large sum 
 was 21'0 miles of incomplete, fragmentary, and disjointed portions 
 of grading." Only about 50 miles of grade in the whole state was 
 ready for the laying of rails. 
 
 By act of Legislature, Governor Ramsey, in 1860, was directed to 
 foreclose the state-held mortgages on the land-grant railroads and 
 to bid in the roads for the state at one thousand dollars each. Almost 
 at once, further effort was made to salvage the operating companies. 
 In 1861, four separate acts were passed restoring to them all their 
 foreclosed property "free from all claims and liens." But that plan 
 brought no rails to Minnesota, either. 
 
 Before the technicalities of the transfer had been completed the 
 country was in the middle of a civil war, and the eastern bankers 
 weren't interested in the investment possibilities of railroads in Min- 
 nesota. The Southern Minnesota Railroad Company wasn't able to 
 raise enough money even to start construction and once more turned 
 back its charter and its assets to the state. 
 
 In 1862, at the suggestion of Governor Ramsey, the Legislature 
 reenacted the relief measures of 1861. The Southern Minnesota, still 
 unable to lay track, reorganized. The new coi-poration was given 
 all the old one's concessions by the Legislature of 1863. And not a 
 length of rail was put down that year, either. It is interesting to 
 note that at the end of 1862 there wasn't a single mile of completed 
 
THERAILSCOMETOMINNESOTA 107 
 
 railroad in the state. By that time the farmers of tlie fertile valley 
 of the Minnesota were being engulfed in a tide of wheat. 
 
 In another year their situation had become dire as well as fan- 
 tastic. The St. Paul Ptomer on January 1, 1864, gave the startled 
 capitol a few details. In 1863 the Minnesota River had been open to 
 navigation by light craft for only 20 days. Half the grain crop of 
 1862 and virtually all of the crop of 1863 had been put in storage 
 on farms and in warehouses — 80,000 bushels in Mankato, 27,500 
 in Henderson, 12,725 in Le Sueur, and 64',000 in St. Peter. 
 
 Meanwhile, with the end of the war in sight, the financial situation 
 was improving. Property values were rising again, and the land 
 grants that would accrue to the roads as fast as tracks were laid 
 down took on the proportions of a tremendous subsidy. But still the 
 state declined to go into the constiniction business. 
 
 Property and franchises moved to and fro between the parent cor- 
 porations and the commonwealth of Minnesota without much inci- 
 dent worth recording save the reorganization of the Transit Com- 
 pany as the Winona and St. Peter Railroad Company. Then a group 
 of St. Paul businessmen, fully aware of the opportunity that lay in 
 the valley of the Minnesota River, got some eastern backing and pro- 
 moted the Minnesota Valley Railroad Company. This company, 
 capitalized at $-iOO,000 and incorporated by the Legislature of 
 1864, took over the "rights, privileges, property, franchise and 
 interests" of the Southern Minnesota Railroad Company. 
 
 The Minnesota Valley Company, upsetting all precedent, began 
 to lay track. In five years it had completed a railroad to St. James, 
 a hundred and twenty-two miles from St. Paul. 
 
 The men who took over the direction of the new corporation had 
 no more experience with railways than anybody else in Minnesota, 
 but they had ideas and energy.* They started work at once and for 
 the first year had hard going. 
 
 * At the first meeting of the Board of Directors held in St. Paul, March 16, 
 1864, Horace Thompson was elected president; John J. Porter, vice-president; 
 D. W. Ingersoll, treasurer; Alexander Johnston (not to he confused with Alex 
 Johnson), secretary. At a subsequent meeting that year Ellas F. Drake became 
 president; John L. Merriam, vice-president; Horace Thompson, treasurer; and 
 Alexander Johnston, secretary. 
 
108 NOHTHWEST TERRITORY 
 
 Wooden bridges and culverts built in the days of long hopes and 
 short money had to be replaced. Grades had to be reduced, and long 
 stretches of the right of way had to be relocated. 
 
 Materials and equipment were brought by barge to Credit Land- 
 ing (now Savage) on the IMinnesota River, and tracklaying was 
 started in the direction of Shakopce. Despite handicaps, 6 miles of 
 steel had been put down by the middle of 1865. This was 6 miles 
 more than most folks in that end of the world had ever lioped for. 
 
 The old menace of tight money stalked the Minnesota Valley Rail- 
 road as it had the Southern Minnesota, although perhaps not so 
 energetically. When track laying progressed ahead of schedule, and 
 the end of the rail moved farther and farther away from the base 
 at Credit Landing, the engineers demanded a locomotive and cars 
 to liaul supplies. 
 
 Rut there wasn't enough money in the company treasury to buy 
 a locomotive. This was probably the first time in the history of trans- 
 portation in iVIinnesota when a railroad company had ever needed 
 a locomotive. 
 
 In the emergency, J. E. and Horace Thompson, H. H. Siblej-, 
 and A. H. Wilder loaned the money for the purchase. E. F. Drake 
 toured the growing junkyards of eastern railroads and sent back a 
 badly worn engine, two boxcars, and five flatcars from Ohio. This 
 assortment arrived at Credit Landing by barge in 1865.* The en- 
 gine, which may or may not have been the first to go into active 
 service in the state, was called the Mankato. 
 
 The Mankato saved a lot of time in the construction work, but it 
 doesn't seem to have been an unmixed blessing. It had a habit of 
 climbing the rails and was hard to keep on the track. Once off, it had 
 to be levered back with tree trunks in the hands of thirty or forty 
 gandy dancers (track levelers). Getting water into it was a problem 
 that required ingenuity. A wooden trough was rigged out over the 
 track from a spring in the sidehills near the landing, and here each 
 night the engine was brought for a filling. 
 
 If it ran out of water during the day, it had to be hauled back to 
 the spring by horsepower for enough of a filling for its immediate 
 job. However, its unsung engineer and firemen learned all about its 
 
 * Messer, Alanson, An Account, of Railroading in the Minnesota Valley, C St 
 P M & O Railroad Museum, St. Paul, Minnesota. 
 
THE RAILS COME TO MINNESOTA 109 
 
 idiosyncrasies and contrived to keep it in service till the rails reached 
 Shakopee and it was retired. 
 
 With the aid of another odd engine (a combination locomotive 
 and baggage car) bought by Drake during the construction period, 
 interurban service was established between the Twin Cities in the 
 winter of 1866. The fare was fifty cents one way. 
 
 That same year the tracks were extended to Belle Plaine, and the 
 old Mankato was put back into service between that point and West 
 St. Paul. 
 
 In the first year of its operation the Belle Plaine section of the 
 road did an amazing business. Shipping tickets preserved in the 
 C St P M & O Railroad Museum in St. Paul show that it hauled 222,- 
 575 barrels of flour, 220,180 bushels of wheat, 5,T01.,900 feet of 
 lumber, 900 cords of wood, 96,000 hoop poles and staves, 312 tons 
 of farm products, 951 tons of lime, 7,743 tons of general merchan- 
 dise, 3,500 tons construction materials, 45 tons of coal, 150 tons 
 of hides, 140 tons of livestock, 150 tons of bran and shorts, 6 tons 
 of brick, 1 ton of game, and 83,315 passengers. 
 
 In 1867 General J. W. Bishop was apjDointed chief engineer, and 
 under his direction the road was pushed into Mankato in 1868. A 
 year later, renamed the St. Paul and Sioux City Railroad, it was 
 pushing on toward the junction of the Big Sioux and Missouri 
 rivers. 
 
 So finally the railroad came to the great Northwest Territory, 
 and the last populous wilderness in the United States began to break 
 up. The metamorphosis somehow has failed to attract the attention 
 of historians who lived through it, yet it was one of the most amaz- 
 ing episodes in the making of the West. 
 
 When the first teapot locomotive came chugging into the Minne- 
 sota Valley it wasn't yesterday that this region had been Indian 
 country, the bitter adversary of the pioneer — it was today — right 
 now. Along the right of way in the areas where there were no forests, 
 men and women still lived as they had lived when they groped their 
 way up the creeks in the forties. They stood in the doorways of sod 
 shanties to watch the passing of the train. 
 
 Tomorrow, and literally tomorrow, all that began to change. For 
 civilization had long ago come to these hinterlands in hope if not in 
 outward signs. These people of the backwoods and prairies liad 
 
110 NORTH WE8TTERRIT0RY 
 
 sulTurL'tl liardsliip in tlie midst of great potential wealth and comfort 
 merely because they knew that one day a locomotive with a pot stack 
 would come alonj^ and reverse their luck. 
 
 Presently finished boards began to conic into the western com- 
 munities from mills actually no great distance away. What is more 
 worthy of note, there came also iron nails — kegs of them. And it is 
 a commentary on the business of living in a great state without a 
 railroad that nails in many districts rated not onlj' as a luxury but 
 as a great novelty. Most of the houses — where there were houses 
 not made of sod — and half the mills had been put together with 
 wooden pegs. 
 
 Nails and boards came in, and frame houses went up — and barns 
 and granaries. In a matter of weeks, harvesting machines and auto- 
 matic threshers began to roll down the ramps from the station plat- 
 forms. The sewing machine came into the farm kitchen. So did fairly 
 efficient wood and coal ranges and lightweight pots and pans. Even 
 more miraculously came artificial light in the form of kerosene lan- 
 terns and lamps with a fuel no longer considered dangerously ex- 
 plosive. 
 
 Books came in, and toys for the children, and odds and ends of 
 finery for the women of the house. You still had to put in a lot of 
 time looking after the stock and plowing and harrowing and reap- 
 ing and threshing. But it no longer took so much effort. There was 
 comfortable furniture in the house. It was a pleasure at night just 
 to come in from the field and sit down and relax. But if you wanted 
 to travel around — well, there was opportunity for that, too. The 
 world was right at your door. You could catch a train in the morn- 
 ing, take a look at the sights in St. Paul, and be home again in time 
 for supper. 
 
 Life was getting just too easy and luxurious — and all because 
 they'd opened a gate and let you get back in touch with the outside 
 world you'd always been hearing so much about. 
 
 This railroad thing had certainly been worth waiting for. 
 
J/ art 
 
 your 
 
 THE WAR YEARS 
 
i 
 
 1 
 
Cl 
 
 CIVIL WAR 
 
 On the evening of Saturday, April 13, 1861, Morse's telegraph 
 announced to the nation that Fort Sumter had been bombarded ; the 
 first shot of the Civil War had been fired! The war clouds had been 
 gathering for years, and had turned black and threatening with the 
 secession of South Carolina on December 20, 1860. As far back as 
 the evening of January 5, 1861, Chicago citizens had affirmed their 
 faith in their fellow Illinoisan, President-elect Abraham Lincoln, at 
 a mass meeting held in Bryan Hall and attended by men of all creeds, 
 political faiths, and national origins. The presiding officer was Sam- 
 uel S. Hayes, a Democrat. Among the patriotic resolutions offered 
 and accepted was this : 
 
 Resolved : That in view of what is now transpiring in South Carolina 
 and other of the Southern States and of the threats to prevent the inaugu- 
 ration of a President constitutionally elected, it is incumbent upon the 
 loyal people of the United States to be prepared to render all the aid, 
 military and otherwise, to the enforcement of the Federal laws which 
 may be necessary when thereunto constitutionally required. 
 
 We have neither compromise nor concession to offer disunionists ar- 
 rayed in open rebellion to the Government, or their aids and abettors. 
 
 The story of Sunday, April 14 — after the news of Fort Sumter 
 had become known to all — is feelingly told by A. T. Andreas in his 
 History of Chicago. 
 
 It was one of those beautiful, cloudless spring days. In the sweet 
 April air floated the old flag from spire and balcony, office and warehouse, 
 ship's mast and dwelling. From early morning till late at night the streets 
 were thronged with an eager, indignant, troubled people — all swayed 
 by a common feeling. The talk was only of the indignity done the flag 
 
 113 
 
THE WAR YEARS 
 
 of the country, tiie mctssity of jircscrving its honor as a priceless heri- 
 tage. Governor Yates was in the city with Iicadquarters at the Tremont 
 House. Even thus early he liad been tendered the services of the Chicago 
 military companies. The Germans, the Irish, the Hungarians and tlic 
 Bohemians had congregated in their halls and given full expression to 
 that patriotism and zeal for their adopted country which they later 
 proved by heroic conduct on the battlefield. Dr. Patton, at the first Con- 
 gregational Church, told his people that the crisis had arrived "in which 
 every Christian might rise from his knees and shoulder his rifle." On 
 Monday, the sixteenth. Governor Yates called out the state militia. 
 
 On that same epochal Sunday morning a round-shouldered, 
 bearded, shabby, medium-sized man approaching forty — most un- 
 military in appearance — stood in a field just outside the city of 
 Galena barking commands at a hundred men and boys. The Galena 
 company had been raised a month before and had elected its officers 
 — but tlie man who was teaching them drill was not of their number. 
 
 He had made application for a commission as far back as the day 
 after tjie South Carolina rebel convention — both to the War De- 
 partment in Washington and to the Illinois State jMilitia Board. 
 He had received no replies to his letters and he didn't know whether 
 to blame this silence on iiis record or on stress of business ; within 
 himself he thought it was the record — but he hoped against hope. 
 Meantime, he clerked in his father's leather store, drilled his fellow 
 citizens in the evenings, on Saturday afternoons, and on Sundays. 
 He was turning them into good soldiers because, although Ulysses 
 Grant never looked like a soldier, he was to become one of the great- 
 est of all time. 
 
 That previous record I Graduation from West Point ; awards and 
 promotion for heroism in the Mexican War; then lonely military 
 posts and an inclination to the bottle; finally, a request that he re- 
 sign. Now, with war looming, surely thej' needed West Pointers, 
 officers with active service records. Grant, a civilian, drilled soldiers, 
 and the bitterness within him grew and gi'ew. Finally the Galena 
 company was called to camp — without its drillmaster. An inspecting 
 officer, remarking on its excellence, wanted to know who had trained 
 it, was told, made some inquiries, and reported to the governor. 
 Yates sent for the West Pointer only to be told that he had been 
 hanging around for days seeking an audience. 
 
CIVIL WAR 
 
 The Twenty-first Illinois Infantry had gathered to itself a repu- 
 tation for roughness, toughness, and insubordination — even this 
 early in the great game. Its colonel had resigned ; he couldn't handle 
 his men and said so. Ulysses Grant was offered the job, took it, and 
 went on and up from there. Illinois sent 2-l<4,496 of her sons into the 
 Union Army; of these 34,834 made the supreme sacrifice — 5,874 
 being killed in battle, 4,020 dying of wounds, 22,786 succumbing to 
 disease, and 2,154 passing on from other causes. 
 
 In the cash shortage sense the panic of 1857 still had its brand on 
 the railroads of the country when the Civil War broke out. The 
 conflict itself put some of the carriers back on their feet — perhaps 
 back on their tracks would be a better expression — while others sank 
 further into the slough of despond, and still others went into com- 
 plete eclipse. 
 
 The railroad setup in the eastern tier of the Southern states was 
 fragmentary at the start of hostilities, and there was neither time, 
 money, nor labor with which to patch it together. In the southwest- 
 ern battles for control of the Mississippi, what railroad systems 
 there were in Texas, Arkansas, and southern Missouri were com- 
 pletely wrecked by both armies ; track and equipment was either 
 carried away by the opposing armies for use elsewhere or was de- 
 stroyed when it was seen that it could no longer be held. 
 
 The Northern forces had better raih'oad men than had those of 
 the South. Also, the former were in better position to use their 
 facilities. With the Gulf route closed it became necessary to ship all 
 food products by rail. Chicago became the great grain and meat 
 depot — anticipating its ultimate destiny by several years ; and the 
 Galena and Chicago Union and the Chicago and North Western 
 came into their own. Most of the railroads west of the Mississippi 
 were still fragmentary and of little help. The closing of the river 
 made the functioning roads an absolute necessity ; war prices made 
 the farmers in the favored territories more anxious than ever to 
 sow and to reap. Along the tracks of the Galena and the Chicago 
 and North Western there was little fear of military obstruction. 
 
 In the presidential campaign of 1856 the building of a Pacific 
 railroad had been a plank in the platform of both Democrats and 
 Republicans. In his first message to Congress, the Democratic vie- 
 
no TIIEWARYEARS 
 
 tor, JiiiiKs Bucliiuian, rccoiiiniLnded the project. Tlie Senate was 
 willing, but the House, dominated by eastern financial interests, 
 acted slowly; the right word is "stalled." This inaction lasted 
 through the Buchanan term. In the first session after Lincoln's elec- 
 tion — his message had also approved the measure — the necessary 
 legislation seemed about to pass when the South seceded from the 
 Union. All opposition disappeared, and as soon as pressing military 
 needs had been taken care of the Homestead Act was passed, giving 
 the basis for the final partitioning of the public domain. With the 
 encouragement given to the building of the transcontinental rail- 
 roads the stage was set for the final conquest of the West.* 
 
 The Union Pacific was chartered July 1, 1862 — the first Ameri- 
 can railroad begun with the aid of Federal cash. It was to build from 
 the center of Nebraska to the eastern boundary of Nevada. The Cen- 
 tral Pacific, similarly endowed, was to complete the line from the 
 Pacific coast. Government bonds were to be loaned at the rate of 
 sixteen thousand dollars per mile in the plains country, thirty-two 
 thousand in the foothills, and forty-eight thousand in the mountains. 
 The stock was to be issued in thousand-dollar shares, of which there 
 were to be 100,000. No person was to hold more than 200 shares; 
 the organization of the company and the composition of the Board 
 of Directors was to have governmental approval. In view of these 
 conditions, it is significant that at the first meeting in September, 
 1862, William Butler Ogden was elected president; he was also, as 
 has been told, president of the Chicago and North Western. 
 
 Subscriptions were slow in coming in ; thousand-dollar bonds were 
 a trifle large for the average investor of that day, and it was plain 
 that such a huge undertaking would be years in getting round to 
 dividends. Ogden worked hard on the project, but at the end of eight 
 months he was compelled to resign in order to give his full time to 
 the approaching merger of the North Western with the Galena. 
 It was well he did so, for it took seven weary years and major scan- 
 dals (maybe he smellcd these from afar) reaching into the halls of 
 Congress before the Union Pacific and the Central Pacific joined 
 their rails at Promontory Point, Utah, on May 10, 1869. But Will 
 
 * Riopel, Robert F,., The Story of the Western Railroads, The Macmillan Com- 
 pany, New York, 192G. 
 
CIVIL WAR 117 
 
 Ogden served the Union Pacific well, for much of the equipment, 
 ties, and rails were hauled by his North Western to Council Bluffs 
 and thence by rail ferry across the river to the Union Pacific termi- 
 nus in Omaha. 
 
 The North Western performed another pioneer service at this 
 time in carrying the first railway post-office car. 
 
 A few weeks after he assumed office. President Lincoln appointed 
 John L. Scripps, one of the proprietors of the Chicago Tribune, 
 postmaster at Chicago. Scripps knew no more about the duties of 
 a postmaster than do many postmasters of today. He had, however, 
 an assistant postmaster, George B. Armstrong, who had held that 
 position for several years and who really understood the business. 
 
 The new officials of the department had hardly become settled in 
 their positions when the Civil War came. In the glamour of raising 
 and equipping armies and sending them to the field, many achieve- 
 ments as necessary and essential as arms and ammunition and drill 
 do not appear. Without food, shelter, clothing, and transportation, 
 an army, like an individual, must succumb. But one of the most im- 
 portant elements in keeping up the morale of an army made up of 
 Americans has always been and will always be in the mails. Letters 
 from home, from parents, from brothers and sisters, wives and 
 sweethearts are a constant means of encouragement to the soldier, 
 and nerve him to heroic deeds ; while writing letters home is the great- 
 est of consolations. 
 
 As a recognition of his services in the recent election. President 
 Lincoln had made David T. Linnegar postmaster at Cairo, his home 
 city. He knew no more of the duties of the office than did Scripps and 
 he had no Armstrong to teach him. But the office was small, and the 
 business light. Suddenly, within forty-eight hours, the Cairo post 
 office, one of the smallest in the United States, became one of the 
 greatest. Mailbags were thrown in by the thousand, filling up the 
 rooms, projecting out of the windows, and piling up on the plat- 
 forms. The western army of the LTnion had come to occupy Cairo and 
 the region round about. This was in the spring of 1862. 
 
 Linnegar, entirely bewildered, telegraphed the postmaster general 
 at Washington for help. George B. Armstrong was sent down. The 
 
118 THEWARYEAHS 
 
 first thing to do was to provide room in wlildi to work, and then to 
 improvise sorting and distributing tables, racks, and cases, so that 
 men could work efficiently. This was done in an incredibly short time. 
 The bags were opened, the mail carefully sorted, the bags refilled 
 and tagged for the command, the divisions, the brigades, or regi- 
 ments, or the post office at home. These bags were sent out to the 
 army and away upon the railways until the congestion was relieved. 
 The great piles of mailbags grew less and less until they disappeared 
 altogether, and the clerks had tlien only to take care of the mail as 
 it came in upon the trains and from the army. Soon, w^ith the extra 
 number of clerks allowed him, Postmaster Linnegar was able to con- 
 duct the business satisfactorily, and Armstrong returned to his 
 duties in Chicago. 
 
 Ill the summer of 1864, Armstrong, having pored for two years 
 ovvv his plan for "a post office on wheels" wrote the postmaster 
 general : 
 
 Letters deposited in a post office at tlie latest moment of the departure 
 of the mail from the office for near or distant places should travel with 
 the same uninterru))ted speed and certainty as passengers to their places 
 of destination. . . . Passengers travelling over railroad routes generally 
 reach a given point in advance of letters, when to that given point letters 
 must pass, under the present system, through a distributing office, and 
 when letters are subject to a distributing process in more than one dis- 
 tributing office as is largely the case now, the tardiness of a letter's prog- 
 ress toward its place of destination is proportionately increased. But a 
 general system of railway distribution obviates this difficulty. The work 
 being done while the cars are in motion and transfers of mails from route 
 to route and for local delivery on the way, as they are reached, letters 
 attain the same celerity in transit as persons making direct connections. 
 
 Postmaster General Montgomery Blair replied: 
 
 Post Office Department 
 July 1st, 1864. 
 Sir: You are authorized to test by actual experiment, upon such rail- 
 road route, or routes, as you may select at Chicago, the plans proposed 
 by you for simplifying the mail service. You will arrange with railroad 
 companies to furnish suitable cars for travelling post offices ; designate 
 head offices with their dependent offices; prepare forms of blanks and 
 
CIVIL WAR 119 
 
 instructions for all such offices, and those on the railroad not head offices, 
 also for clerks of travelling post offices. 
 
 To aid you in this work, you may select some suitable route agent whose 
 place can be supplied with a substitute, at the expense of the department. 
 
 When your arrangements are complete, you will report them in full. 
 
 The first railway post office in the United States was established 
 by Armstrong under the above instructions on August 28, 1864, on 
 the Chicago and North Western Railway. It ran between Chicago, 
 Illinois, and Clinton, Iowa, in a compartment car. The first com- 
 plete railway post-office cars were built by the same railway from 
 plans furnished bj' Armstrong in 1867, and placed in service between 
 Boone and Council Bluffs, Iowa. The overland mail to the Pacific 
 coast then went by the Chicago and North Western Railway, upon 
 which those towns were situated, and these cars were run to pro- 
 vide for that mail to be immediately despatched westward upon its 
 arrival at the Missouri River, instead of lying over at a distributing 
 post office as had been necessary up to that time. By this arrange- 
 ment mails were ascending the Rocky Mountains, 500 miles west, at 
 a time when they otherwise would have been leaving Omaha. 
 
 Under tlie old route agent system one agent in a narrow compart- 
 ment of a car received and distributed the mail from town to town, 
 delivering such as he received for local offices and pouching the re- 
 mainder on his terminal office. If a distributing office intervened, the 
 locked pouches were despatched, like so much dead freight, by star 
 routes and passenger trains, sometimes to be delayed a day and 
 sometimes several days, to be sorted or redistributed and pouched 
 for a further journey. 
 
 Under the new system created by Armstrong, important trains 
 on trunk lines were equipped with full postal cars manned by crews 
 of clerks, who opened the locked pouches and tie sacks and distrib- 
 uted all the mail while the train was speeding on its way, besides 
 receiving and delivering mail at the towns through which the train 
 passed. Upon its arrival at the end of the run, the mail, properly 
 sorted and pouched, was delivered without delay to a connecting 
 line or lines equipped with similar cars, provided with their comple- 
 ment of clerks, to be again distributed, with other mail received, 
 while the train thundered on to its destination. 
 
120 THEWARYEARS 
 
 This was actually- accomplisliLcl witliin five years from the time 
 the postmaster general authorized Armstrong to "test by actual 
 experiment" the plans he had proposed. A year after their inception 
 he was brought to Washington and placed in charge of a new de- 
 partment, the Railway Mail Service.* 
 
 * Carr, Clark E., The Railwai/ Mail Service, A. C. McClurg & Company, Chi- 
 cago, 1902. 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter ^4- 
 
 CONSOLIDATION 
 
 On June 2, 1864, the Galena and Chicago Union and the Chicago 
 and North AYcstern were consohdated. William H. Brown was presi- 
 dent of the Galena, although in the several days of final negotiation, 
 John Bice Turner actually functioned as head of the Galena with 
 the title of chairman of the managing committee. Turner had been 
 president of the Galena from 1851 — when Ogden resigned — until 
 1859, when he was succeeded by Walter Newberry who, in 1862, was 
 followed by William H. Brown. But Turner remained on the Board 
 of Directors and took his seat on the North Western Board at the 
 consolidation. The first president of the expanded North Western 
 was Will Ogden. The consolidation stirred the people of the country, 
 as Historian W. H. Stennett put it, "from the Atlantic to the slopes 
 of the Missouri." It was the first important consolidation in the 
 country's railroad history. Opinions were varied, but the majority 
 thought seemed to agree with the explanatory statement of the new 
 Board of Directors headed by President Ogden : 
 
 Among the reasons which influenced those who, on account of their 
 large interests in these roads, have given more particular attention to the 
 subject and advised this course, are the following: Much of the territory 
 traversed by these roads was so situated as to induce injurious competi- 
 tion between them. The union of both gives greater strength and power, 
 favoring more advantageous and extended connections, and better relations 
 with other railroads built and to be built, and will aid to prevent the con- 
 struction of such roads as would only serve to create injurious competi- 
 tion, without any adequate increase of the aggregate earnings of the roads 
 competing. Decided economj', material reduction of expenses, and in- 
 creased and more profitable service of engines and cars will also be the 
 result of cooperation in the place of competition, and of one management 
 
 121 
 
122 THEWARYEARS 
 
 of botli roads. TIic basis and terms of tliis consolidation are substantially 
 as follows: For each share of Galena and Chicago Union Railroad Com- 
 pany's stock the holder will receive one share of the preferred and one 
 share of the common stock of the consolidated Chicago and North West- 
 ern Railway Company, and $3 in money. The preferred stock of this 
 companj' to be issued in exchange for the stock of the Galena company 
 is entitled to preferences to the aggregate extent of 10 per cent in the 
 dividends which may be declared in any one year, out of the net earnings 
 in such year, in the manner following, to wit: First, to a preference of 7 
 per cent; and after, dividends of 7 per cent on the common stock; then, 
 secondly, to a further preference of 3 per cent; after, a further dividend 
 of 3 per cent on the common stock; both classes of stock shall be entitled 
 to equal rates per share in any further dividends. 
 
 The principal reason for dropping the pioneer name of Galena and 
 Chicago Union Railroad Company in the consolidation will be apparent 
 when it is observed that no portion of either of the consolidated roads 
 touches Galena ; and to retain the name of the Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company involves no change of books or blanks, and is suffi- 
 ciently comprehensive to include the large territory penetrated by the 
 united roads. 
 
 Tlie contributions by eacli railroad to the consolidation were as 
 
 follows : 
 
 As TO THE Galena Company 
 
 Miles 
 
 1. The original Galena and Chicago line, extending from Chicago to Free- 
 port ^ -1 
 
 2. The Dixon Air Line, extending from the Junction, 30 miles west of 
 Chicago, due west, through Geneva to Dixon, and to Fulton on the 
 Mississippi River; and to east end of bridge over the Mississippi, nearly 
 two miles below Fulton 1"8 
 
 3. The Beloit branch, from Belvidere to Beloit, about 21 
 
 i. The St. Charles Air Line, extending to Harlem, about 9 
 
 5. The Elgin and State Line Railroad, extending from Elgin north to 
 
 Richmond, about "^^ 
 
 The branch from the old line to Elgin, more than 2 
 
 Making in all -"■* 
 
 The double track from Chicago to Turner Junction (30 miles) 
 is counted as only 30 miles in the preceding statement, the second 
 track not being taken into account. 
 
CONSOLIDATION 123 
 
 Miles 
 In addition it also contributed to the consolidated corporation the per- 
 petual lease of the Chicago, Iowa and Nebraska Railroad, about (now 
 
 built) S2 
 
 Also, of the Cedar Rapids and Missouri River Railroad Hi 
 
 Also, perpetual lease of tlie Beloit and Madison Railroad 47 
 
 Making a total of leajsed roads operated by tlie said Galena Company 
 at the time of consolidation equal to Hoi 
 
 Total number of miles owned by the Galena Company at the time of con- 
 solidation '29-1 
 
 Total number of mUes of leased roads operated by the Galena Company 
 at the time of the consolidation ^'27 
 
 Add to this the extension of Hi miles of leased road from Nevaila to Boones- 
 boro, since consolidation 24 
 
 Total 545 
 
 As TO THE North Westehx Compaxt 
 
 Miles 
 
 1. Its main line, extending from Chicago, via Janesville, to Green Bay. . . . 242 
 
 2. Its "Kenosha division" extendmg from the town of Kenosha to its 
 junction at Rockford with the old Galena road 73 
 
 Makmg a total length of railroad owned by Chicago and North West- 
 ern Railway at the time of consolidation 315 
 
 Making a total length of roads owned and leased by both companies 
 at the time of consolidation 8G0 
 
 As a footnote to consolidation, we have Joliii I. Blair of Blairs- 
 town, New JerseVj whose manipulation of railroads west of the Mis- 
 sissippi brought a number of connecting lines into the North West- 
 ern system. 
 
 Blair was a planner of railroads, a railroad stock speculator, a 
 railroad bridgebuilder. Though appearing to act independently, he 
 was seemingly high in the confidence of Will Ogden and the latter's 
 various associates in railrGad ventures. In his own fashion he was as 
 amazing a railroad character as was Jay Gould, the difference being 
 that Blair was a servitor — ruthless as Gould but employed by men 
 who were acquiring track for the purpose of building up a system 
 or systems so that these could be of service to the communities, in- 
 
THE WAR VEARS 
 
 stead of fretting hold of railroads onlj for the purpose of gambling 
 on tlie market with the properties. 
 
 As has been told, the first railroad to cross the state of Iowa was 
 the Galena — via its leased lines. It had reached the Mississippi, op- 
 posite Clinton, in 1855. Blair saw the immediate need of a western 
 connecting line. He had his cA'e on the Lyons and Iowa Central, 
 
 The Galena and Chicago Union Railroad as it appeared in 1864 just before it 
 consolidated with the Chicago and North Western Railway Company (see 
 illustration opposite). 
 
 organized in 1853, and planned to run from Lyons, near Clinton, 
 through Des Aloines to Council Bluffs. This plan was later changed 
 to send the line through Cedar Rapids. 
 
 The Chicago, Iowa and Nebraska Railroad Company was incor- 
 porated in January, 1856. That company consti-ucted 81 miles of 
 railroad between Clinton and Cedar Rapids, which it reached in 
 1859. In July, 1862, Blair leased the trackage between Clinton and 
 Cedar Rapids to the Galena, thus giving the latter an all-rail route 
 from Chicago to Cedar Rapids. 
 
 The Iowa Central Air-Line, organized in 1853, seemed to have a 
 brilliant future — that is, on its own — until Blair caught up with it. 
 Financed at the start with local cajiital, it was going to run between 
 
CONSOLIDATION 
 
 125 
 
 Cedar Rapids and Council Bluffs. Its local promoters had "pull" 
 in Congress and had reason to believe they could get a land grant. 
 Their conclusions as to help in Washington were soundly based. A 
 delegation, sent there in 1856, 
 
 returned in triumph with a land 
 grant from the Mississippi 
 River to Council Bluffs, which 
 was approved by the State Leg- 
 islature. The local backers gave 
 the delegation a dinner on its 
 return — a thoroughly well-de- 
 served honor. And work started 
 at once. Good land — and the 
 settlers coming in ; one could 
 hardly see where they could 
 lose. But along came the panic 
 of 1857 — and the settlers failed 
 to come along. Little had been 
 done on the road, and Blair, 
 who had unsuccessfully tried to 
 buy in at the start, went into 
 action. He did not make any 
 offer to the Iowa Central Air- 
 Line but he organized the Cedar 
 Rapids and IMissouri River 
 Railroad and started laying 
 track west out of Cedar Rapids. 
 After he had 5 miles of rail 
 laid down, Blair appeared be- 
 fore the Iowa Legislature and 
 stated his case. He was associ- 
 ated with a line running from 
 Chicago to Cedar Rapids. He 
 
 Lines of the Chicago and North Western 
 Railway in 1864 at the time of consoli- 
 dation with the Galena Road. The imion 
 resulted in a true "north" and "west" 
 system. 
 
 had plenty of money, more than enough to build on to Council Bluffs, 
 while the Iowa Central was bankrupt, and if railroad progress in 
 Iowa had to wait on its improbable return to solvency, it might be 
 years before the state was bridged across with track. He wanted the 
 transfer of the land grant — and he got it. 
 
126 THE WAR YEARS 
 
 Blair leased the Cedar llapids and ]\Iis.souri to tlie Galena in Jul}', 
 1862, while it was still in course of construction — which lease was 
 taken over by the North Western two years later at the time of the 
 consolidation. The bridge across the Mississippi that was being built 
 at the same time was completed by the North Western in 1865. The 
 road entered Council Bluffs in 1867 — in time to secure the contract 
 for the hauling of the majority of the supplies for the Union Pacific. 
 In July, 1884, the North Western purchased Blair's Chicago, Iowa 
 and Nebraska and his Cedar Rapids and jNIissouri Kivcr lines out- 
 right. 
 
 Blair's tactics in buying into weak railroads gradually increased 
 his holdings, and ho did not call a halt at Council Bluii's. He entered 
 Des Moines on behalf of the Noi'th Western by purchase of the ma- 
 jority stock of the Des Moines and Minnesota (later the Des Moines 
 and Minneapolis). He built extensions north and west from Mis- 
 souri Valley (near Council Bluffs) under a charter granted to the 
 Sioux City and Pacific Railroad Company. It took Blair until 1868 
 to reach Sioux City, and from there he built on to Fremont, Ne- 
 braska. This line was to provide a connection with the Union Pacific 
 and had the help of a land grant. Later on Blair was to build the 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley road (a part of which was 
 operated for a time by the Sioux City and Pacific) from Fremont, 
 Nebraska, to the Wyoming state line, with extensions into the Black 
 Hills of South Dakota and to Casper, Wyoming, and ultimately into 
 Omaha. All these Blair properties were eventually leased to and 
 finally purchased by the North Western, the Sioux City and Pacific 
 property being taken over in 1901, and the Fremont, Elkhorn and 
 Missouri Valley in 1903. 
 
 Two years after the consolidation of the Galena and the North 
 Western, the line obtained control of Lake Shore service between 
 Chicago and Milwaukee. 
 
 After the war there came a flood of immigration to the Middle 
 West and to the Northwest from Europe and from Great Britain. 
 A large portion of the Northern armies were made up of single men 
 from Ireland, Scotland, and Germany, and in lesser numbers — but 
 still impressive — from England, Wales, and France. Very few of 
 the survivors returned to their native land; many of them sent for 
 
CONSOLIDATION 127 
 
 sweethearts and other members of their families ; the response was 
 tremendous not only among those selected by the veterans but by 
 friends and neighbors. 
 
 The Irish poured into Chicago in even larger numbers than they 
 poured into New York; an avalanche of Germans swept into Mil- 
 waukee and the surrounding portions of Wisconsin. The Scandi- 
 navian peoples were selecting Minnesota as their happy hunting 
 ground. As time went on many Southerners, sore at heart, penniless, 
 came to seek a more pleasant and remunerative life on the almost 
 virgin acres of the great territory and in the trade and business 
 marts of the two great cities, Chicago and Milwaukee. Small wonder 
 that the prophetic vision of the Chicago and North Western direc- 
 torate made necessary the acquisition of a railroad directly connect- 
 ing the two great supply and distribution depots of the newer and 
 wider expansion. 
 
 Out of the Illinois Parallel Railroad sprang the North Western's 
 present Lake Shore suburban service. This road was chartered by 
 the state of Illinois in 1851 to run from Chicago to the Wisconsin 
 state line. In 1853 the name was changed to the Chicago and Mil- 
 waukee Railroad, and tracklaying was completed as far as the Wis- 
 consin state line in 1855. But in 1851 the people of Milwaukee had 
 a somewhat similar idea — that of running a railroad from Milwaukee 
 to Chicago. The Green Bay, jMilwaukee and Chicago Railroad was 
 chartered by the state of Wisconsin in 1851 and in 1855 was built 
 south to the Wisconsin state line. In 1857 the name was changed to 
 the Milwaukee and Chicago Railroad Company. Thus, rail trans- 
 portation was established between Chicago and Milwaukee, but until 
 1863, when the two roads consolidated as the Chicago and Milwaukee 
 Railway, freight and passengers alike changed cars at the state line. 
 
 The first regular train service was inaugurated December 19, 
 1854, between Chicago and Waukegan, and on January 20, 1855, a 
 "grand inaugural luncheon" was held at the Dickinson Hotel in 
 Waukegan, attended by 300 people from the three cities. Captain 
 Hiram Hugunin was toastmaster. Dr. Volmy Dyer, described bv 
 the Milwaukee Sentinel as "that prince of wits," delivered an ad- 
 dress on "Western Railroads" for which he declared himself as 
 peculiarly fitted, for was he not "the underground railroad director 
 for the region." (Dr. Dyer headed the organization that cared for 
 
128 THEWARYEARS 
 
 those slaves who, escaping from the South, managed to make their 
 waj' to Chicago or Milwaukee.) The Honorable Isaac Arnold, Og- 
 den's personal attorney, responded to the toast, "the Ladies, God 
 bless them." A smattering of the guests took the five o'clock back to 
 Chicago, arriving tliere at seven, but the majority stayed for the 
 grand ball, catching the morning train. 
 
 Judge Henry W. Klodgctt, who handled the details of the char- 
 tering of the Chicago and Milwaukee and lobbied the bill through the 
 State Legislature, had the major part in bringing about the consoli- 
 dation of the Chicago and Milwaukee with the Milwaukee and Chi- 
 cago in 1863, just as he had the major part in the negotiations that 
 brought about the road's lease by the North Western, signed May 2, 
 1806. The North Western acquired the Chicago and Milwaukee 
 through consolidation in 1883 and in recognition of Judge Blodgett's 
 toil and perseverance named a locomotive after him ; it is to be pre- 
 sumed also that his fee — which should have been large if it was not 
 — was paid without question. 
 
C/u 
 
 lanfer -fo 
 
 OGDEN RETIRES 
 
 At the annual meeting of the Chicago and North Western Rail- 
 way held June 4, 1868, AVilliam Butler Ogden tendered the Board 
 his resignation as president, an office he had held with great honor 
 for nine years, the last four of which had been as president of the 
 company after consolidation with the Galena. He was, as he told 
 his pi'otesting colleagues, sixty-three years old — and tired. He had 
 seen his dream of a great northwestern traffic system emanating out 
 of Chicago become something more than a framework ; the filling in, 
 he declared, was the duty of young men — but he promised to be in 
 close touch and always available for advice and consultation. 
 
 Some years before, he had purchased a country estate on Ford- 
 ham Heights — then just outside the city of New York — which he 
 had named Boscobel. He planned to sort of divide his time between 
 the two cities. New York and Chicago ; in this suburb of the former 
 metropolis he contemplated leisure with an interest in art and music ; 
 in the latter city, where he retained a full staff at his near-North 
 Side mansion, he planned to be somewhat more active; he was still 
 a member of the boards of several large corporations and he had 
 a finger on the pulse of his great lumber interests in Wisconsin, 
 his smelters near Pittsburgh. 
 
 On the night of October 8, 1871, Ogden was awakened from sleep 
 in his New York home by the arrival of a telegram which informed 
 him that Chicago seemed about to be wholly destroyed by fire. Utiliz- 
 ing all the speed of which transportation was master in those days, 
 he arrived early on the morning of the tenth in the still blazing city 
 which owed him so much — and to which, as he always admitted, he 
 owed aU that he had and all that he was. 
 
 129 
 
THE WAR YEARS 
 
 Even today, after the lapse of more than tlircc-tjuartcrs of a cen- 
 tury, you can always get an argument out of a dyed-in-the-wool 
 "ancestral-minded" Chicagoan as to the origin of the Great Fire 
 which destroyed property valued, in those days of reasonable prices, 
 at more than $190,000,000 and which Inirncd at the rate of $110,000 
 per minute ! 
 
 As it was after the ashes finally quit smoldering, so it is today ; 
 there are four distinct schools of thought on the origin of the Chi- 
 cago Fire. These are: one, that Mrs. O'Leary, visiting her cows 
 after dark, put a lighted kerosene lamp on the floor of the shed, 
 wliifh lamp was kicked over by a noncooperative cow; two, that 
 O'Leary neighbors, celebrating the arrival of a relative from the 
 Old Sod, had entered the O'Leary barn intent on stealing enough 
 milk to make a gargantuan oyster stew and an even larger milk 
 punch. These bandits had also carried a kerosene lamp which was 
 kicked over by a cow, bitterly indignant at being robbed of a com- 
 modity that she was holding in trust for Mrs. O'Leary; three, that 
 a group of growing boys, learning to smoke tobacco and barred from 
 such practices by their parents, had gathered for a session with their 
 pipes in the recesses of the O'Leary barn and had let live ashes fall 
 on a pile of hay ; four, that the fire was the deliberate work of a 
 pyromaniac or an enemy of the O'Learys. 
 
 All the rash of subsequent inquiries and investigations brought 
 out but one incontestable fact — that the fire originated in the 
 O'Leary barn and cowshed at 137 De Koven Street on the near West 
 Side a few doors from Jefferson Street, some fifteen minutes after 
 nine o'clock on the evening of Sunday, October 8, 1871. The 
 O'Learys claimed to have all been in bed at the time; Mrs. O'Leary 
 insisted she had not been near the barn since early evening milking 
 time. At nine-thirty, Dennis Sullivan, a passing drayman and neigh- 
 bor of the O'Learys, saw flames in the barn ; he notified the O'Learys 
 and endeavored unsuccessfully to save the livestock; the fire was 
 too fast for him. Mrs. Catherine McLaughlin, who was giving the 
 party for the newly arrived Irish immigrant, swore that no person 
 present at the celebration had gone "to steal milk from the O'Leary 
 cows." No small boys admitted ever having smoked tobacco — to say 
 nothing of having smoked that night in the barn. In the circum- 
 stances, and down the vt'ars, the several schools of thought insist 
 
OGDEN RETIRES *^i 
 
 that in view of the fearful sequel, ]\Irs. O'Leary, Mrs. McLaughlin 
 and her guests, and the suspected small boj's — that none of these 
 had the nerve to admit culpability; as to the pyromaniac or anti- 
 O'Leary theory nobody was ever brought forward — or came for- 
 ward. The charred remnants of a lamp were found in the barn — but 
 nobody admitted ownership. 
 
 Like most communities of that period, Chicago was largely built 
 of lumber. The preceding summer had been an exceptionally dry one ; 
 thus far the fall had been rainless ; the fire apparatus, entirely in- 
 adequate for such a conflagration, had been overtaxed but a few 
 hours before by the destruction of four blocks lying between the 
 river. Van Buren, Clinton, and Adams streets — during which a 
 large quantity of hose had been destroyed and much fire-fighting 
 machinery incapacitated. Most of the fii-emen who had worked twen- 
 ty-four hours on this blaze were taking much-needed rest at their 
 homes when the alarm was belatedly sounded. On top of that, an 
 exceptionally high wind was roaring due north. Ogden, in his notes 
 gathered after his arrival in Chicago, makes particular reference 
 to this storm : 
 
 The reason that buildings, men, or anything did not withstand the 
 torrents of flames is explained by the fact that the fire was accompanied 
 by the fiercest tornado of wind ever known to blow here, and it acted like 
 a perfect blowpipe, driving the brilliant blaze hundreds of feet with 
 so perfect a combustion that it consumed the smoke, and the heat was so 
 great that fireproof buildings sunk before it almost as readily as wood. 
 
 Tiie Chicago Fire was brought under control and its progress 
 halted on the afternoon of October 11, largely through the efficient 
 methods of Lieutenant General Philip Sheridan, hero of the Civil 
 War, then in command of the Department of the Missouri of which 
 Chicago was part. Sheridan's troops laid mines and blasted out sec- 
 tions of the city in the path of the flames. On the South Side the 
 southern limit of the fire on Michigan Avenue was Congress Street ; 
 on Clark, Harrison, and on Wells a point a little below Polk. The 
 area of this burned district was 450 acres. Three thousand six hun- 
 dred buildings were destroj'ed, including 1,600 stores, 28 hotels, 
 and 60 manufacturing establishments. Twenty-one thousand six 
 hundred people were turned out of their homes. 
 
182 THE WAR YEARS 
 
 On tlie North Sitic 1,300 acres were burned over; the total num- 
 ber of buildings destroyed in this section was over ten thousand; 
 about 70,000 people lost their homes. On the West Side, 194 acres 
 were burned over, about 600 buildings were destroyed, and more 
 than 2,500 people rendered homeless. The value of property in Chi- 
 cago at this time has been estimated at $575,000,000; the fire de- 
 stroyed approximately one-third of this. That only about 300 lives 
 were lost seems improbable. But people had time to flee, though none 
 in which to gather their possessions.* The losses of the Chicago and 
 North Western amounted to more than a million dollars. 
 
 A harried employee nut Will Ogdcn on his arrival in the burning 
 city and informed him that his Rush Street mansion was still stand- 
 ing; but this man, who had not dared venture north of the Chicago 
 River, had obtained his information from one who had confused Will 
 Ogden's home with that of his brother Mahlon whose house, at Wal- 
 ton Place and Clark Street (the present site of the Newberry Li- 
 brary), was the only dwelling place spared on the near North Side, 
 south of Chicago Avenue. Will Ogden's beautiful home and all his 
 treasures were but a pile of ashes inside four broken main walls when 
 he finally got there. 
 
 He volunteered immediately for any duty and was appointed a 
 member of the mayor's committee; but before he had even begun to 
 serve, more bad news came his way. His Peshtigo village in Wisconsin 
 and the adjoining lumber mills and timber regions by cruel coin- 
 cidence had caught fire just as he arrived in Chicago. He raced there 
 as fast as disorganized traffic could move him, to find mills, village, 
 and a great stretch of timber destroyed. More than a thousand per- 
 sons, in contrast to the loss of life in Chicago, are said to have 
 perished. 
 
 "This is an act of God," Ogdcn said as he stared at the ruins, 
 "and we must not complain. Both here and in Chicago we shall bend 
 our backs and build again." 
 
 Ogden's losses in both fires were over two million dollars. He re- 
 mained in the region until the rebuilding of both Peshtigo and Chi- 
 cago was well on the way; then he returned to Boscobcl. In 1872, a 
 
 • Angle, Paul, The Orcat Chicago Fire, Valentinc-N'cwman, Chicago, 194C. 
 
OGDEN RETIRES 
 
 133 
 
 lonely old man, he married for the first time. His bride, Miss Mari- 
 anna Arnot, a charming lady of mature years, proved a delightful 
 and sympathetic companion for the remaining five years of Will 
 Ogden's life. He passed away in his sleep on August 3, 1877. 
 
 By 1870 the railroad was across the Missouri River into Nebraska while the 
 "Omaha Line" (dotted lines) was going through growing pains in Minnesota 
 and Wisconsin. 
 
 Following Ogden's resignation from the presidency of the North 
 Western, Henry Keep was elected to succeed him and held the office 
 until his death, July 11, 1869. For several years there had been a 
 keen, sometimes vicious competition for supremacy — and expansion 
 — between the North Western and the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. 
 Paul Railwaj^ the North Western's most potent rival in the terri- 
 tory already covered in great part by both roads and in the terri- 
 tory that each concern eventually hoped to cover. There were pro- 
 
131 T II E W A R Y E A n S 
 
 posals of amalgamation, of pro-rating, of purclia.se by one road of 
 the other. Soinetiincs there was exceeding friendship and cooperation 
 between the two boards ; at other times accusations of varying na- 
 ture were hurled back and forth and a director of the Milwaukee, 
 passing a director of the North Western, would look the other way 
 — and vice versa. 
 
 But at the time of Henry Keep's death, a lengthy truce had ex- 
 isted, and Milwaukee directors were serving on the Board of the 
 North Western, and North Western directors were serving on the 
 Board of the Milwaukee. And among the Milwaukeeans doing duty 
 on the other side of the fence when President Keep passed away w-as 
 Alexander jMitchcll, the hardheaded Glasgow Scot who had climbed 
 from penniless emigrant boy to president of the Milwaukee. 
 
 Mitchell, grandfather of the famous flying general, "Billy" INIitch- 
 ell, managed to get himself elected president of the North Western 
 at the first directors' meeting following Keep's death — September 1, 
 1869. He was now president of two great competing lines and 
 easily the most formidable figure in middle western railroad circles. 
 The North Western stockholders didn't like it; the Milwaukee 
 .stockholders probably did. But enough hell was raised between the 
 date of Mitchell's election and the next annual meeting to unseat 
 him and send him back to the Milwaukee. John F. Tracy was elected 
 president in his place. 
 
 On the morning of March 1, 1872, a tall, good-looking, broad- 
 shouldered young man entered Tracy's outer office and was immedi- 
 ately ushered in to the president. Half an hour later an office memo 
 advised all employees that Marvin Hughitt, thirty-four-year-old 
 general manager of the Pullman Palace Car Company, had been 
 appointed general superintendent of the system. 
 
 The curtain had risen on the North Western's second "^lan of 
 Destiny." 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter^ ^6 
 
 MARVIN HUGHITT 
 
 What james j. hill was to the Northern Pacific, what Collis P. Hunting- 
 ton was to the Southern Pacific, what Sir William Van Home was to the 
 Canadian Pacific, and what Henry B. Plant was to the Atlantic Coast 
 Line, Marvin Hughitt was to the Chicago and North Western. Though 
 the Illinois Central claims him ... as one of its products, the name of 
 Hughitt is and ever will be inseparably linked with the development of 
 the great Chicago and North Western System with which he had been 
 continuously identified for the last fifty-five years of his life and which 
 was under his unchallenged direction for thirty-eight years.* 
 
 Marvin Hughitt was destined for success under any circum- 
 stances. He had made rapid strides in railroading while still in his 
 early twenties, but strangely enough it was a crucial battle of the 
 Civil War that thrust him into greatness. 
 
 The identity of the ultimate victor of tlie Civil War — in the 
 spring of 1862 — was anybody's guess. Shiloh (April 5 to 7) was 
 wholesale slaughter on both sides with no benefit ; possibly a Con- 
 federate failure but certainly no complete Union victory, because 
 it was not followed up. ^Miat accomplishment there was for the lat- 
 ter belonged to Don Carlos Buell, who rolled up to the battle line 
 on the morning of April 7 with 20,000 fresh troops and enabled 
 Halleck to take the offensive, forcing Beauregard and Johnston 
 (A. S.) to retire on Corinth. 
 
 The Federal high command was well aware that Buell's troops 
 would be needed from the time battle was joined. The reinforce- 
 ments — infantry, cavalry, artillery, munitions, and supplies — had 
 
 * From "The Story of Marvin Hughitt," written for the Illinois Central Maga- 
 zine by Associate Editor Carlton J. Corliss and published in its issue of September, 
 1927. 
 
 135 
 
1 36 THE WAR YEARS 
 
 to be rushed through Ccntrah'a, Tllinois to Cairo over a single track 
 of the Illinois Central. Could it bo done in time for Hallcck, Grant, 
 and Pope — thus aided — to throw back the Southerners? 
 
 The answer was up to a youthful trainmaster headquartered at 
 Centralia — twenty-five-year-old Marvin Hughitt, a New York State 
 farniboy who, at the age of fourteen, had persuaded his parents to 
 permit him to go to Auburn, the county seat, and there learn to 
 operate the invention of Professor Morse for the transmission of 
 messages over strung wires. While he learned, he followed the pro- 
 cedure for both existence and education taken by so many telegraph 
 operators who became great executives — he delivered messages. At 
 the age of seventeen, while he was operating a key at Albany, his 
 speed was noticed b}' Judge John D. Caton, organizer of the Illinois 
 and Mississippi Telegraph Company. The judge hired j'oung Hugh- 
 itt for his Chicago office, and he became one of the first two teleg- 
 raphers employed in that city. He was a superintendent before his 
 nineteenth birthday. 
 
 A few months later Marvin Hughitt was appointed superintendent 
 of telegraph and train despatcher for the St. Louis, Alton and Chi- 
 cago Railroad, now the Chicago and Alton. He remained with the 
 Chicago and Alton until January, 1862, when the Illinois Central, 
 desperately in need of eflicient trainmasters and telegraphers be- 
 cause of its heavy troop-train movements, engaged him for its 
 southern division. Hughitt was in his office at Centralia when Gen- 
 eral Halleck sent out his hurry call for reinforcements. The youth- 
 ful trainmaster's job was to get an army to Cairo. 
 
 He was the boss- — but he would not delegate the job to any sub- 
 ordinate. For thirty-six straight hours he sat at the despatcher's 
 table, glued to his instrument, keeping the trains moving far faster 
 than the government or Halleck had hoped for. When he staggered 
 out of his chair every designated soldier, horse, and gun, and every 
 piece of equipment had been detrained at Cairo.* 
 
 Keauregard retreated — and Johnston was killed; Halleck failed 
 to follow up. Had he done so, the verdict of many military experts 
 — from then up till now — has been that he would have cut the Con- 
 federacy in two and immeasurably shortened the war. President Lin- 
 
 * Corliss, The Story of Marvin Ilughitt. 
 
MARVIN HUGHITT 137 
 
 coin demanded relief for the Unionists in eastern Tennessee. Marvin 
 Hughitt had hardly rested after accomplishing his despatching 
 feat, when he was called upon to duplicate it ; he had to shoot an- 
 other army east through Centralia, and time was again of the es- 
 sence. He sat down to his key for another stretch of thirty-six hours 
 and when he rose the job had been done. He received the thanks of 
 President Lincoln and of the Secretary of War. He was made super- 
 intendent of the southern division of the Illinois Central and three 
 years later, at the age of twenty-eight, he was appointed general 
 superintendent of the road — the youngest man ever to hold such a 
 position on a major line. He remained with the Illinois Central for 
 five years when the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul offered him 
 the job of assistant general manager. 
 
 Things were not to Marvin Hughitt's liking on the Milwaukee, 
 and a year later he accepted the post of general manager of the 
 Pullman Palace Car Company. It did not take him long to realize 
 that he preferred building and developing railroad track to build- 
 ing railroad cars — no matter how sumptuous — and after a year's 
 service he parted company with George Pullman with the best of 
 wishes on both sides. Hughitt then took over the general superintend- 
 ency of the Chicago and North Western — a job that had been offered 
 him twice before over the passage of four years. 
 
 At the age of thirty-eight Hughitt became general manager of 
 the road; four years later he was made a vice-president. In 1882 he 
 was elected president of the Chicago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis and 
 Omaha at the time it became the principal subsidiary of the Chicago 
 and North Western. Later, as they passed into control of the Chi- 
 cago and North Western, he became president of the Fremont, Elk- 
 horn and Missouri Valle}- ; the Sioux City and Pacific ; and the Mil- 
 waukee, Lake Shore and Western. He was made president of the 
 North Western in June, 1887. 
 
 To Barret Conway, vice-president and secretary of the North 
 Western, who was secretary to the president for thirteen years, from 
 June, 1902, to August, 1915, we are indebted for the following inti- 
 mate paragraphs regarding Hughitt : 
 
 From 1887 until 1910, when Mr. Hughitt resigned the presidency and 
 assumed the position of Chairman of the Board of Directors, he operated 
 
THE WAR V K A n S 
 
 a one-man road. Even after he became Chairman of the Board, he still 
 remained the very active head of tlie property, At the time it was pre- 
 dicted that tlie change of title would mean little in the way of shelving 
 of responsibility and active management by Mr. Hughitt, and so it turned 
 out to be. The new president was obliged to continue to defer to Mr. 
 Hughitt on questions of policy and details of management. Not until he 
 reluctantly relinquished the helm in June 1925, at the age of nearly 88, 
 and accepted the somewhat honorary title of Chairman of the Finance 
 Committee (which he held until the day of his death), was anyone else 
 the head of the North Western Railway save Marvin Hughitt. During his 
 38 years of active, firm control, he shaped its policies and guided its 
 course. Under him the railroad grew and expanded. The administration 
 of its affairs and its well-being absorbed his ever)' thought and attention. 
 It was often said of him that he had just two interests in life: one, his 
 family, and the other, the North Western Railway. He seemed not to 
 know how to play, and wasted no precious time in frivolous pursuits but 
 devoted his spare time to good reading: history, biography and philoso- 
 phy. Having had little formal schooling, through wide reading he became 
 self-educated and highly cultured. Even so, he is said to have stated that 
 he would have given his right arm for a college education. He was deeply 
 religious and a regular church attendant; dignified, courtly, impressive, 
 not easily approachable but withal kind, considerate, and a most inter- 
 esting, well-informed conversationalist. 
 
 Although he insisted at all times upon strict observance of all govern- 
 mental laws and requirements, he was impatient of the restraints imposed 
 by ever increasing governmental regulation. Anent his insistence on high 
 ethics and conformity with all laws and regulations, one of his vice-presi- 
 dents made the lugubrious comment: "Yes, we are highly moral, but mean- 
 while the (naming a certain irritating competitor) is getting the 
 
 business." As early as 1907, when new teeth were put into the Interstate 
 Commerce Act and some of the states also enlarged and strengthened 
 their railroad laws and regulations, Mr. Hughitt was heard to agree with 
 a brother railroad president that the government was "fast taking all of 
 the fun out of the railroad business." Federal Control of the Nation's 
 railroads during World War I was a bitter pill. He chafed and fumed 
 at governmental waste, woeful neglect of maintenance and operating in- 
 efficiency. When that sad period was ended, he lost no time in resuming 
 control and inaugurating measures to rehabilitate and restore the prop- 
 erty. If Mr. Hughitt had lived to see the depression of the 1930s, which 
 precipitated trusteeship and subsequent reorganization of the North 
 Western Company, and the rash of federal controls and restrictions im- 
 
MARVINHUGHITT 139 
 
 posed by alphabetical bureaus during the New Deal regime, that soul- 
 trying period would have been another sad blow for him. On the other 
 hand, he would have had enormous pride in the magnificent record which 
 his beloved North Western, in common with all other railroads of the 
 country, made in carrying the staggering transportation burden of World 
 War II. 
 
 It is not generally known that at an early time, before the establish- 
 ment of friendly, agreeable arrangements with the Union Pacific Railroad 
 for the exchange of traffic at Council Bluffs and Omaha and when the 
 Union Pacific was being a bit difficult about interchange with the Sioux 
 City and Pacific road at Fremont, Mr. Hughitt caused a reconnaissance 
 to be made for an extension of the North Western line from its then 
 Wj'oming terminus, through the Wind River ^Mountains of that state, 
 pointing towards the Pacific coast. The subsequent traffic tie-up with 
 the Union Pacific caused the reconnaissance report to be filed and for- 
 gotten. The prospect of costly construction through rugged mountain 
 terrain was doubtless also a factor in the shelving of the report. Some 
 wiseacres have stated that ^Ir. Hughitt missed his chance to acquire the 
 Union Pacific Railroad for the North Western when the former's finan- 
 cial difficulties of the early 1890s threw the company into receivership 
 which culminated in its reorganization in 1897, at which time E. H. Harri- 
 man appeared on the scene and put the Union Pacific upon the way to 
 its subsequent glory. It has been stated in explanation that Mr. Hughitt 
 was a Director of the Union Pacific at the time and had some close con- 
 nection with the Kuhn-Loeb reorganization committee, which prevented 
 his taking advantage of the golden opportunity. It is not known certainly, 
 however, that he or anyone else then connected with the North Western 
 recognized the opportunity which, if seized, would undoubtedly have 
 magnificently enlarged the road's fortunes and destiny. 
 
 When the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul Railway Company was 
 building its Pacific coast extension, Mr. Hughitt was taunted for letting 
 the Milwaukee people get the jump on him. After intensive study of 
 population, agricultural, industrial and topographical statistics of the 
 northwestern region already served by two fine railroads — the Northern 
 Pacific and Great Northern — Mr. Hughitt was confirmed in his resolve 
 to, as he expressed it, "stick to our knitting, develop this railroad In its 
 present territory and let the ^Milwaukee build to the coast if it wants to." 
 He predicted that the Milwaukee's extension would prove to be a heavy 
 financial burden and would very probably bring trouble in its wake, and 
 so it turned out when the INIilwaukee went into receivership in 1925 and 
 was reorganized in 1927. 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter / 7 
 
 RURAL OPPOSITION 
 
 In spite of the fact that the Galena and Chicago Union had started 
 out as a "farmers' railroad," the North Western was plagued in the 
 seventies bj Granger legislation designed to control railroad profits. 
 Railroads, by this time, were "big business"; and although the 
 farmers still invested in railroad stocks, they felt they were not get- 
 ting a fair deal. 
 
 The Grange, as it came to be called, was the brain child of Oliver 
 Hudson Kelly, a post-office clerk in the Federal capitol. Kelly came 
 of farming folks and although he elected to become a pen-pusher his 
 sympatliies were always for the plow-pushers ; he considered every 
 railroad an octopus, fattening on the proceeds of agriculture with- 
 out giving the producer his fair share. On top of that he opined, not 
 without reason, that the farmer was the biggest individual investor 
 in the construction of proposed roads and deserved a better deal. 
 Farmers, concluded Kelly — again not without reason — were the 
 eventual losers when receiverships and reorganizations came along, 
 and he waxed particularly angry when he thought of the closing of 
 farm mortgages when the owners of the land had pledged their 
 property as security for railroad stock. 
 
 Kelly talked another post-office clerk, William Ireland, into his 
 way of thinking, and they gathered a third disciple in William Saun- 
 ders, also a government clerk but employed in the Agricultural 
 Bureau. The trio incorporated the "Patrons of Husbandry" and 
 gathered into the fold a St. Paul spellbinder. Colonel D. A. Robert- 
 son, who went off "to set the prairies afire with oratory." Robertson 
 changed the name of the organization to the Grange. Shouting his 
 way through the Northwest and the Middle West for four years, he 
 built up a powerful organization composed entirely of farmers and 
 
 no 
 
RURAL OPPOSITION 14X 
 
 managed by farmers. The main object — you might say the only 
 object — of the Grange was regulation of the railroads by the people 
 who had granted the charters through their duly elected representa- 
 tives in the Legislatures. 
 
 In the Wisconsin State Legislature of 1874, Senator R. L. D. 
 Potter introduced the first Granger law. The preceding eighteen 
 months had been sad ones for many farmers — nor had they been 
 particularly bright months for the railroads. In Wisconsin alone, 
 3,785 farm mortgages valued at over $-1,000,000 had been fore- 
 closed ; many of these mortgages were railroad-owned. The Potter 
 Act fixed arbitrary rates for freight transported in the state and 
 cut passenger rates to three cents per mile, first class, and two cents 
 second class.* 
 
 The railroad attorneys attacked the bill on constitutional grounds, 
 holding that nobody but the roads had the right to fix transporta- 
 tion charges. The reply of the bill's supporters was that the roads 
 were quasi-public industries and had accepted public land grants. 
 The people of Wisconsin divided themselves into two camps — as is 
 usual between those who have and those who have not. Northern 
 Wisconsin, still to get its railroads, was for the railroads; southern 
 Wisconsin, beginning to think in the light of lost farms and bank- 
 rupt lines that it had too many roads, was for the Potter Act. Writ- 
 ten into the bill was something that particularly infuriated the rail- 
 roads : members of the Legislature, state officers, and judges were 
 to be carried free; not only were the solons out to slice the fares of 
 the common people, but they wanted free passes for doing so ! 
 
 Despite the desperate lobbying and legal work of the railroads, 
 the Potter Bill became law in the same session that had witnessed its 
 presentation. The final draft, as enacted, put maximum first-class 
 fare at four cents per mile. The measure was signed by Governor 
 W. D. Taylor, who had been elected to office by the now powerful 
 Grange on a promise along these lines. The North Western and 
 the other roads concerned did not adjust their tariffs to conform 
 until compelled, some six months later, to do so by injunction handed 
 down by Chief Justice Edward G. Ryan of the Wisconsin Supreme 
 
 * Derleth, August, The Milwaukee Road, Creative Age Press, Inc., New York, 
 1948. 
 
THE WAR YEAR! 
 
 Court. Appeal was taken to tlie United States Supreme Court, but 
 never reached that body. 
 
 The railroads concerned, working together — for the menace to 
 all was very clear throughout the land — let it be known far and wide 
 that the Potter Law meant the cessation of railroad building not 
 only in Wisconsin but in near-by states and to the West, the East, 
 the North, and the South. The country was slowly recovering from 
 the panic of 1873; people were beginning to move again; settlers 
 wished to get out into the far places. True to their strategy, the 
 roads cut down service. Wall Street and other eastern money centers 
 expressed doubt as to the wisdom of investment in existing roads 
 and projected roads ; the buttle between the Grange and the lines 
 was on again full blast despite the fact that tlie latter had conformed 
 to the tariff cuts. 
 
 In 187(5 a Rejoublican governor, Harrison Ludington, was elected, 
 and with him a Republican majority took over in both houses of the 
 Wisconsin Legislature. The governor, in his first message, eloquently 
 pleaded the financial plight into which the Potter Law had thrust 
 the railroads ; he pointed out that the state was not even 25 per 
 cent developed in the matter of this very necessary sort of trans- 
 portation — and that he was talking of present population and not 
 of population to come, which population assuredly would not come 
 unless the railroads built on. Governor Ludington concluded his 
 address with a plea for repeal of the Potter Law and passage of the 
 Vance Bill — which provided for a supervising commissioner, re- 
 pealed the legislation of 1874, and left rates as they liad been before 
 the Grange's short-lived victory. 
 
 The Vance Bill became law in double-quick time, halting state and 
 even Federal railroad regulation for long years to come. 
 
 The North Western's annual report for 1877 pointed with pride: 
 
 The three main lines of the company's railway and their ramifications 
 cover the quadrant of a circle whose radius of over 500 miles sweeps to 
 the north, northwest and west from Chicago. Nearly every variety of 
 production and industry incident to the vigorous activity of that country, 
 from Lake Superior on the north to the transcontinental traffic via Oraalia 
 on the west, is embraced witliin the limits of tliese enclosing lines. 
 
RURAL OPPOSITION 1-id 
 
 The iron ore, the copper, stone, minerals and timber of the Upper 
 Peninsula of Michigan ; the manufactures, agriculture, commerce and 
 immense lumber interests of Wisconsin ; the extensive wlieat-growing 
 prairies of jNIinnesota and Dakota, and the great and diversified products 
 of some of the fairest and most thriving portions of Illinois and Iowa, 
 from the lakes to the Missouri River, all contribute in greater or less 
 degree to the volume of traffic which supports our revenues. 
 
 A fine recovery indeed from the slough of despond into which the 
 road had admitted being plunged by the Potter Law ! 
 
 In 1877, construction of an important branch commenced; this 
 was the Menominee River Railroad from a connection southwest of 
 Escanaba, IMichigan, and designed to furtlier open up the rich min- 
 ing regions. Completed between Powers and Quinnesec, a distance 
 of about twenty-five miles, it was extended between 1877 and 1882 
 over the state line into Wisconsin and served various mining set- 
 tlements at Florence, Wisconsin, and Crystal Falls, Iron River 
 Junction, Stambaugh, Narenta, and Metropolitan — all in Michigan ; 
 the latter two settlements linked up the Menominee with the Esca- 
 naba and Lake Superior Railway. 
 
 The results of the fiscal year ending May 31, 1878, were eminently 
 satisfactory. The net earnings of the road, with its leased and pro- 
 prietary lines, were $2,464,487.16 — more than twice as much as 
 those of the previous year. Marvin Hughitt, now general manager 
 of the road, was gradually replacing iron rails with steel, having by 
 this time covered, two-thirds of the trackage; all newly built lines 
 and extensions were steel-railed. By 1885, with a total mileage of 
 3,843.31, steel rails were laid over 3,302.06 miles. 
 
 Incidentally, while on the subject of steel rails, the Chicago and 
 North Western was the first American road to test out the refine- 
 ment for track purposes. We quote from Maintenance of Way and 
 Structure by William C. Willard, assistant professor of railway 
 engineering at McGill University : 
 
 The first steel rails made in America, six in number, were rolled in 
 May, 1865, at the North Chicago Rolling INIill from ingots of Bessemer 
 steel cast at the Wyandotte mills, near Detroit. These rails were placed on 
 the track of the Chicago and North Western and are known to have car- 
 
1 it THE WAR YEARS 
 
 ried traffic for over ten years, but there is no record of when the_v were 
 finally removed. The first rails rolled in America were patterned after 
 those rolled in England and had a height of four to four and a half 
 inches with a comparatively thin head and thick base. 
 
 Witli a view of diminishing' the number of corporations and sepa- 
 rate organizations included in the system controlled and operated by 
 the company, an effort was made during 1881 to bring together, 
 capitalize, and merge, under authority of law, the various properties 
 situated in each state, so far as could be conveniently effected inde- 
 pendently of the organization of the Chicago and North Western 
 Company. 
 
 The Elgin and State Line Railroad Company', the St. Charles 
 Railroad Company, and the State Line and Union Railroad Com- 
 pany, in the states of Illinois and Wisconsin, were consolidated 
 under the name of the Elgin and State Line Railroad Company'. 
 
 The Chicago and Milwaukee Railway Company, the Northwestern 
 Union Railway Company, the Milwaukee and Madison Railway Com- 
 pany', the Chicago and Tomah Railroad Company (which had prcvi- 
 ousl}' been merged with the Galena and Wisconsin Railroad Com- 
 pany), and the Sheboygan and Western Railway Company were 
 consolidated in the states of Illinois and Wisconsin, under the name 
 of the Chicago, Milwaukee and North Western Railway Company. 
 
 The Menominee River Railroad Company in Michigan, and the 
 Menominee Railway Company in Wisconsin were consolidated under 
 the name of the Menominee River Railroad Company in both states. 
 
 The Winona and St. Peter Railroad Company, the Plainview 
 Railroad Company, the Chatfield Railroad Company, the Rochester 
 and Northern Minnesota Railway Company, the Minnesota Valley 
 Railway Company, and the Chicago and Dakota Railway Company 
 were united in Minnesota, and formed the Winona and St. Peter 
 Railroad Company. 
 
 In 1882, much was done in the way of construction. The Iowa 
 Southwestern was completed, its length being 51.8 miles. The more 
 important line of the Toledo and Northwestern Railway was pressed 
 forward and practically the entire line was finished during 1883. 
 An extension of 71 miles of the St. Peter road in Dakota was also 
 
RURAL OPPOSITION i-*^ 
 
 commenced in 1SS2, and completed in 1883, as well as extensions of 
 the Escanaba and Lake Superior and the Menominee River lines. In 
 November, 1882, purchase was made of a majority of the capital 
 stock of tlie Chicago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company.* Delivery and payment were to be made during the sum- 
 mer of 1883. The management of this corporation was reorganized 
 and placed under the control of the Chicago and North Western 
 Company on December 16, 1882. The so-called "Omaha Line" em- 
 braced 1,147 miles of well-equipped railroad. 
 
 In 1883, an extension of 78.22 miles was made of the Toledo and 
 Northwestern Line, securing connection with the southeastern divi- 
 sion of the Dakota Central. During the year, certain proprietary 
 lines in Michigan became a part of the Chicago and North Western 
 Railway. Two of the branch lines in Wisconsin were absorbed, and 
 on June 8, 1883, was effected the consolidation of the Elgin and 
 State Line and the Chicago, Milwaukee and North Western Rail- 
 ways with the Chicago and North Western. 
 
 During 1884, the following leased and tributary lines, operated 
 by the company in Iowa, were purchased: Chicago, Iowa and Ne- 
 braska Railroad, from the Mississippi River bridge at Clinton to 
 Cedar Rapids ; Cedar Rapids and Missouri River Railroad, from 
 Cedar Rapids to Council Bluffs, these two constituting the main line 
 across the state, and the Maple River Railroad, a valuable connec- 
 tion running into northwestern Iowa — a total of 487.97 miles. Con- 
 trol was acquired through purchase of the capital stock of the fol- 
 lowing: the Sioux City and Pacific Railroad, from Sioux City to 
 California Junction near Missouri Valley, thence across the Missouri 
 River to a connection with the Fremont, Elkhorn, Missouri Valley 
 at Fremont, Nebraska ; the Missouri Valley and Blair Railway and 
 Bridge Company, owning the bridge and its approaches over the 
 Missouri River at Blair; and the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri 
 Valley Railroad, from Fremont to Valentine, near Fort Niobrara, 
 Nebraska, with the Creighton branch, 311 miles; total, 418.42 miles 
 of tributaries, and the Blair Bridge property. 
 
 In pursuance of the company's policy to reduce the number of 
 its minor corporations, the properties of the Iowa Midland Railway 
 
 * See separate chapter on the Omaha. 
 
THE w A n V F. A n s 
 
 Company; Stanwood and Tipton Railway Company; Dcs IVIoincs 
 and Minneapolis Railroad Conii)any; Ottuinwa, Cedar Falls and 
 St. Paul Railwaj' Company ; and Iowa Southwestern Railway Com- 
 pany were acquired by purchase in October, 1884, by the Chicago 
 and North Western Railway Company. 
 
CJ art Kjfu 
 
 we 
 
 THE LAST FRONTIER 
 
Cl 
 
 lanter /S 
 
 THE OMAHA CLIMBS ABOARD 
 
 While the North Western was justifiably taking pride in its 
 increased business during the seventies and prudently consolidating 
 many of its smaller lines, pioneer construction was still under way 
 in Wisconsin and Minnesota. But now it had taken on a broader 
 significance. The Chicago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha was 
 to emerge as an important railroad. And the North Western was 
 to take a new interest in the Minnesota railroads as a jumping-off 
 place for extension of its lines into the Dakotas. 
 
 Nobody in the Middle West or along the route of rails toward 
 the Pacific needed to be told any more about the speedy miracles of 
 transportation. Minnesota had had a series of sad experiences and 
 to a lesser degree so had Wisconsin and Iowa and Missouri. But 
 when one would-be Ogden found bankruptcy at the end of his hastily 
 built right of way, there were alwaj's a few score waiting to take up 
 his burden. So, presently, hopeful little railways were extending out 
 of undistinguished hamlets all over the Mississippi Valley. Where 
 they were bound for only their promoters would have dared to say, 
 but it was obvious that the bulk of them came of ambitious parent- 
 age. They were all, a casual observer must have gathered, destined 
 to run as far as dry land would let them. 
 
 In one thing at least their imposing names were all alike : the Bird 
 Center, Pig's Eye and Pacific ; the Corntown, Chicago, New Orleans, 
 Minneapolis and Pacific ; the This, That or Other and Pacific. Few 
 of them reached an adult stature of as much as thirty miles. 
 
 In Minnesota the state had been compelled to take over the rail- 
 road properties when the operating companies couldn't lay track or 
 meet their obligations. In adjoining communities the state wasn't 
 involved, but the process seems to have been just about the same 
 
 149 
 
160 THELASTFRONTIEIl 
 
 and just as continuous. So the roster of the rails took on new con- 
 fusion with the addition of new names for new companies and new 
 aliases for old ones. 
 
 In Wisconsin, Illinois, Iowa, the jumble of little railroads going 
 nowhere was quite as purposeless and as extensive as in Minnesota 
 until the 1857 panic that speculation had engendered wiped most 
 of them out. The North Western, absorbing a line here and a line 
 there and building suitable connecting links, had gone far afield 
 from the little avenue of strap iron that Ogden and the Illinois 
 farmers started to build in IS-iS. By 18G4' it had extended itself well 
 up into northern Wisconsin and was over the Mississippi River at 
 Clinton. But of even greater importance to the founder's jjlans for 
 opening up the Northwest Territory was its arrival in the midst of 
 the Minnesota chaos in 1867. 
 
 The chaos, as has been mentioned, was straightening out a bit. 
 After several false starts, the land grant railroads were moving 
 north, south, and west from St. Paul. The Minnesota Valley was 
 actually in operation as far as Lake Crystal below Mankato. The 
 Winona and St. Peter Railroad Company, subsidized by a valuable 
 state land grant in 1863, was able to get a quantity of cash out of 
 D. N. Barney and Company and eventually to lay down 102 miles 
 of road westward from Winona. This was the property acquired by 
 the North Western on October 31, 18G7. 
 
 The new owners immediately began to push the line westward 
 toward the Dakota Territory. 
 
 Old-timers must have stood amazed at the illogical brashness of 
 this venture. It was one thing to take over a road in southern Min- 
 nesota, traversing a lush farming area and linking dozens of vigor- 
 ous and well-established communities. It was another to strike out 
 into an expanse of prairie land in the Sioux country where there 
 were no towns, no farms, no produce, and virtually no white inhabi- 
 tants save trappers and soldiers and less easily identified adven- 
 turers. The terminal objective was Fort Pierre on the Missouri. And 
 the most enthusiastic of empire builders might have wondered at 
 that, too. Fort Pierre was already in touch with the outer world by 
 means of steamboats running north from Omaha. (Its business as 
 late as 1870 was merely that of a military post.) Prairie lands 
 stretched to the east of it for a couple of hundred miles to the Min- 
 
THEOMAHACLIMBSABOARD lol 
 
 nesota settlements and west to the mysterious — almost mythical — 
 Black Hills. North Western scouts, including William Butler Ogden 
 himself, had ridden horseback over much of this area and had been 
 able to report that the sod of the prairies along the Missouri looked 
 much like the sod that had been broken to the plow in Wisconsin, 
 Minnesota, and Iowa. AVhether the soil beneath would grow anything 
 but buffalo grass they did not know. They could only hope. 
 
 The rails went on past Mankato and New Ulm and Tracy toward 
 Lake Benton and the state line and the great unknown. Those were 
 the days when to run a railroad you had to have the sort of vision 
 denied to people who didn't run railroads, and moreover you had to 
 have a swashbuckler's daring. 
 
 For a couple of years the drive toward Dakota was the North 
 Western's only interest in Minnesota. But in retrospect, it appears 
 that a number of uncorrelated influences were building up what was 
 to become one of the most important parts of its network in the 
 Mississippi Valley. 
 
 For one thing, there was the Tomah and Lake St. Croix Railroad 
 Company or the La Crosse and Milwaukee Railroad Company or 
 the W^estern Wisconsin Railroad Company, or whatever you choose 
 to call it. 
 
 Its principal mission under tlie charter granted by the state of 
 Wisconsin was to build a line from Tomah to Lake St. Croix. As the 
 Western Wisconsin in 1870 it was given a charter amendment au- 
 thorizing the construction of a road to the south edge of the state. 
 Two years later JNIinnesota granted permission for the building of a 
 bridge across Lake St. Croix. In 1876 Wisconsin legalized an exten- 
 sion of its line from Warren's Mills to Elroy. In 1878 it was virtu- 
 ally bankrupt and sold out to a syndicate headed by H. H. Porter, 
 David Dows, and Walston H. Brown. It was reorganized as the 
 Chicago, St. Paul and Minneapolis Railway Company. 
 
 Across the river in lower Minnesota was the St. Paul and Sioux 
 City Railroad Company, formerly the Root River and Southern 
 Minnesota and more recently the Minnesota Valley Railroad. By 
 1878 it was approaching the southwest corner of the state. At Heron 
 Lake it made a junction with the grandiosely titled Minnesota and 
 Black Hills road which had crawled westward about forty miles. 
 
 Somewhat farther south it encountered the Worthington and 
 
162 THE LAST K II O N T I E R 
 
 Sioux Falls Railroad (previously known by other names) which 
 had been authorized by act of Congress to extend its road from 
 Minnesota to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and had done so. These 
 lines, together with the St. Paul, Stillwater and Taylor Falls Rail- 
 road (28 miles), the Hudson and River Falls Railroad (12 miles), 
 and the Omaha and North Nebraska (63 miles) were all merged into 
 the St. Paul and Sioux City system in 1879. 
 
 And finally, or nearly so, there was the North Wisconsin Railway 
 Company, incorporated by the state of Wisconsin in 1871, to build 
 a road between St. Croix Lake and Lake Superior. It got on with its 
 work until 1880 when it was consolidated with the Chicago, Saint 
 Paul and Minneapolis Railway Company under the name of Chicago, 
 Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha Railway Company. In 1881 
 this new organization took over the St. Paul and Sioux City road 
 with all its newly acquired ramifications. And in 1882 the Chicago 
 and North Western Railway Company got control of the majority 
 stock in the Chicago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha System. 
 The dream of William Butler Ogden was taking on a tangible pat- 
 tern. 
 
 When the Chicago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company came into being in 1880, the citizens of St. Paul and Min- 
 neapolis were predicting— on somewhat meager evidence — that the 
 railroad had come to stay. Another road had been linked up with 
 Chicago, but, more importantly, there was now a band of steel be- 
 tween the Twin Cities and Lake Superior. 
 
 The newspapers greeted the event as an occasion for great local 
 rejoicing. Once more there were long discussions in print of how, 
 with this new outlet to the sea, St. Paul was destined to become the 
 great rail center of the United States. Other lines had brought civ- 
 ilization to the outlands and increasing trade to the river settlements. 
 But this big consolidation would bring Minnesota squarely into the 
 world's markets. This line was truly what its name implied, IMinne- 
 apolis's railroad and St. Paul's railroad. 
 
 Only one small item in the structure of the Chicago, Saint Paul, 
 Minneapolis and Omaha Railway Company seems to have been over- 
 looked. As the result of having acquired, among other lines, the Hud- 
 son and River Falls Railway Company, the headquarters of the 
 
THE OMAHA CLIMBS ABOARD 153 
 
 Omaha system were not in St. Paul or Minneapolis or even in Minne- 
 sota. They were over the St. Croix River in Hudson, Wisconsin, one 
 of the original points of the line. 
 
 So it was to Hudson, Wisconsin, that the directors of the Chicago, 
 Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha Railway traveled to their first 
 board meeting. Nobody mentioned very loudly that there was some 
 sort of trouble on their connecting link between the St. Croix bridge 
 and St. Paul. Nor was it entered in the minutes that President H. H. 
 Porter and directors Jacob Humbird, John A. Humbird, David 
 Dows, Philetus Sawyer, Edgar P. Sawyer, R. P. Flower, R. R. Cable, 
 and W^. H. Ferry had to ride to the meeting aboard a stagecoach 
 from Stillwater. 
 
 Just how far the little Galena and Chicago Union had come from 
 its first stop in Oak Park was evidenced in Albert Keep's presiden- 
 tial report for 1882: 
 
 The system embraced by the Chicago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis and 
 Omaha Railway Company at the time of the purchase covered 1,147 
 miles of well-equipped railroad, extending from ^Minneapolis and St. 
 Paul southeast to a connection with the road of this company (the Chi- 
 cago and North Western) at EIroy; northwestwardly to Bayfield and 
 Superior City on Lake Superior; southwestwardly to Sioux City, Eastern 
 Nebraska, Omaha, and the Union Pacific Railroad, and, by its southern 
 connection at the Iowa state line, opened to the Toledo and North West- 
 ern railway and all the Iowa roads of this company direct communication 
 for the interchanging transportation of grain, cattle, coal, lumber and 
 other products of Iowa and Minnesota. . . • The property of the Chi- 
 cago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha Railway Company was much 
 improved and enlarged under its former management, and some of its 
 lines had become indispensable and others greatly necessary to the in- 
 tegrity and completeness of the Chicago and North Western System in 
 the northwest. . . . 
 
 Like many another railroad president before him and since. Keep 
 seems a little formal about discussing the miracles he has seen — a 
 little self-conscious and fearful lest somebody accuse him of brag- 
 ging. But the point of the matter is that he actually saw the mira- 
 cles and had his own part in their performance. The greatest and 
 most expensive jigsaw puzzle from the beginning of such things until 
 1882 had been completely and efficiently assembled. From the second- 
 
THE LAST FnONTIER 
 
 hand odds and ends of a couple of dozen little railroads designed to 
 run only between brokerages offices and bankruptcy courts, the 
 North Western's salvage crews had evolved one of the most remark- 
 able transportation sj'stcms in the world. 
 
 At last they had contrived a direct line between Ciiicago and Min- 
 neapolis and St. Paul. Another direct line linked Omaha and the 
 Twin Cities. And there were others : Chicago to Sioux City ; Winona 
 to the Missouri River; Chicago to Lincoln, Nebraska; ]\Iinncapolis 
 to Des Moines ; Ciiicago to Appleton ; Chicago to Duluth and the 
 iron and copper country and tlie Upper Peninsula of Michigan; Chi- 
 cago to Omaha and by througii sleeping cars to the Pacific coast. 
 
 The Chicago and North Western and the Chicago, Saint Paul, 
 Minneapolis and Omaha systems made a close-meshed grid across 
 northwestern Wisconsin, southern Minnesota, and northern Iowa, 
 crossing each other seventeen times. By a revolution in transport 
 they had made over the lives of hundreds of thousands of people in 
 the Middle West. And now they were moving out once more toward 
 the emptiness of tiie great plains and the unknown hazards of the 
 broad Miss-oo-rye. 
 
a 
 
 'lapter ^9 
 
 EMPTY HORIZONS 
 
 When Minnesota was made a state in 1858, the white population 
 in the Dakota Territory adjoining was purely theoretical. Pierre 
 Chouteau, a trapper, had ventured into the Missouri Valley near the 
 junction of the Sioux in 1856 and had brought some sort of entour- 
 age with him. His camjj was probably the first civilian settlement 
 in the region. 
 
 The great land stampede that had outnumbered if not outdis- 
 tanced the gold rushes of the forties and fifties had stopped some- 
 what short of the Dakota Territory. Wisconsin and Minnesota may 
 have been a wilderness, but they had been friendly lands of fertile 
 promise. Broad river systems had given them an accessibility even 
 through forest lands where roads would be long arriving. The scat- 
 tering Indian tribes had been ajjathetic or peaceful or easily sub- 
 dued. 
 
 The land of the Dakotas was different. It was harder to reach. 
 True, the Missouri River led into it, and steamboats operated on the 
 Missouri. But excejjt for the military, there were no scheduled opera- 
 tions to jumping-off places up in Montana or intermediate sectors. 
 There was no great network of rivers to give settlements a sense 
 of being linked with other settlements and to provide some means 
 of communication with markets. The Missouri's tributaries were 
 twisting and shallow, turbulent or dry depending on the season, 
 but rarely navigable. The mighty Red River on the east side of the 
 territory ran north and south and flowed into Canada, and offered 
 few advantages to pioneers inland hundreds of miles west. 
 
 The Dakotas were vast, treeless plains surrounded by empty 
 horizons. They seemed lonelier than the wooded hinterlands of the 
 upper Mississippi because anyone standing in them could be in no 
 
 155 
 
1 66 T H E L A S T F It O N T I E R 
 
 doubt about liis own isolation. In a forest one might live in the 
 hope that tlie next turn of the trail would reveal a clearing and 
 human habitation. On a Dakota prairie one experienced no such 
 delusion. There weren't any trails. There wouldn't be any human 
 habitations. If you walked fifty yards west of the Missouri's right 
 bank you had the uncanny sense of entering into another world. No 
 wliitc man had ever been here before you. Most likely no human foot 
 had trod the soil on whicli you stood — not since the beginning of 
 time. 
 
 And this was truly Indian country. After the ]Minnesota Valley 
 uprisings of 1862, the Sioux had been driven into Dakota to a 
 sketchily defined reservation in what the natives now call the "west 
 river country." Cavalry rode herd on them mostly to see that they 
 did not venture back beyond the Minnesota pale of settlement. But 
 generally they were allowed to roam about pretty much as they 
 pleased, and few homeseekers craved their company. 
 
 As has been said, nobody gave much thought to the natural re- 
 sources of this weird land. The old cry was echoing once more : What 
 price crops when you can't sell them to anybody? The boom that 
 was one day to put the world's wheat center in the middle of Dakota 
 Territory was a long time getting under way. 
 
 It cannot be said, however, that the few settlers in this region 
 were without initiative and resourcefulness. Witness their early 
 political activities. 
 
 Without wishing to detract from the stature of the western pio- 
 neer as a person of courage and amazing durability, it is still 
 possible to say that the picture of him in moving pictures, school 
 histories, and patriotic speeches is somewhat distorted. He is repre- 
 sented usually as a starry-e^'ed if not fanatical idealist. He has 
 come from Sweden or Ireland or ]\Ionaco just to make a still more 
 glorious country out of the United States which he has learned some- 
 how to love. His is the mission to labor unselfishly, to suffer and 
 fight, that the principles of freedom and democracy shall be estab- 
 lished here in the wilderness for all time. Patiently he carries on, 
 come hell or high water, not for himself but for the everlasting bless- 
 ing of millions yui unborn. Anyway, that's how it reads in tlie 
 scenario. 
 
 As a matter of fact, j'our pioneer was a iiard-bittcn realist wiio 
 
EMPTY HORIZONS 
 
 wouldn't have survived if he had been anything else. His conception 
 of a free country was one in which he could go around being a hard- 
 bitten realist and make it pay. 
 
 He came to America and spread out into the hinterlands with very 
 little worry about the untold millions yet unborn — hardly any at 
 all. His concern was for himself and his immediate family. Here was 
 a chance to pick up the little piece of land that he never could have 
 had in his homeland. He would have to pay for it with hard work 
 and hard living. But what of that? He was used to work and dis- 
 comfort at home. The land was fertile — so he had heard. It would 
 raise fabulous crops and would bring wealth to him in his declining 
 years. And, if farming bored him as it sometimes did, he was under 
 no compulsion to stay behind a wooden plow. There were other op- 
 portunities on the frontier. A man with ambition and intelligence 
 could do well for himself in trade, in crafts, in politics. 
 
 There is no doubt that the hardy pioneer was the greatest of our 
 citizens, a man of high moral character, prodigious physical force, 
 and unbelievable resilience. He had to be to protect himself against 
 land agents, Indians, and other pioneers. But somewhere, somehow, 
 he saw a practical side to the ideal of democracy. He loved freedom 
 well enough to fight for it — as he did heroically and in great num- 
 bers in the Civil War. But it is hardly right to say that he loved 
 it as a noble theory. Rather he loved it as an institution that in 
 one way or another paid a dividend. 
 
 When argument over the admission of Minnesota to the Union 
 began in Washington in 1857, the echoes of the debate came eventu- 
 ally to the land of the Dakotas. The boundary lines of the projected 
 state had been pretty well established in previous discussions, and 
 it was obvious that the prairie land west of the Red River and Big 
 Sioux River, even then loosely called Dakota, would be given identity 
 as an administrative unit. The prospect was given a lot of serious 
 discussion in the bars of St. Paul and the cavalry posts along the 
 Missouri. But it caused no waving of flags or dancing in the streets 
 among the worthy citizens of Dakota. The white population of the 
 new territory totaled exactly 30 souls. 
 
 Most of these worthy pioneers, for some reason not yet clear, 
 had settled in what is now Big Sioux County near Sioux Falls. In 
 1858 they were pretty well out of the world, but that should not be 
 
158 THE LAST FnONTIF.n 
 
 taken as evidencu tluit tlicy were authfiitic yokt'ls. 'i'liey were not. 
 
 It has been said that they received some instruction in territorial 
 politics from men who had held fjovernuient contracts to supply 
 military and Indian j)osts in IMinnesota. If so, they learned rapidly 
 and well. 
 
 On May 12, the day after Minnesota became a state, the populace 
 of Dakota Territory met in caucus. With great solemnity they set 
 out to elect a legislature and a governor pro tern. 
 
 In groups of two and three they drove out over the prairie, stop- 
 ping every few hundred yards to establish a voting precinct and 
 hold an election. The organizers cast not only their own votes but, 
 to save time, they voted also in behalf of absent relatives in Sweden 
 or Chicago or Heaven. Then they carefully counted the votes, made 
 note of the results, and moved on to establish and operate the next 
 voting precinct. 
 
 There was little variation in the process throughout the after- 
 noon. ^^^len, eventually, the election commissioners reconvened, they 
 discovered that they had established a territorial government, com- 
 plete with a governor, lower house, and territorial council. They 
 drew up a constitution, enacted laws, and arranged for tax levies — 
 this time most assuredly for the "generations yet unborn." 
 
 Then they memorialized Congress to recognize their de facto 
 government and maintain them in the offices to which they had been 
 so painstakingly elected by themselves. They also petitioned that 
 Sioux Falls be given official designation as the territorial capital. 
 
 They had more than a year to argue the point before Washington 
 took any notice of Dakota Territory's existence and in the end 
 nothing came of it — Congress said no. But one of the lesser known 
 emoluments of pioneering had been brought out where everybody 
 could see it. From then on your plainsman was first a politician and 
 then a drawer of water (if any) and a hewer of wood. He has looked 
 at public office with a sort of proprietory interest ever since. 
 
Cl 
 
 ADVANCE ON THE DAKOTAS 
 
 The rails came slowly out of Minnesota to feel their way across 
 the Dakota prairies — a great faith behind them and an unreasoning 
 hope ahead. 
 
 Elsewhere — in the develojDment of Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, and 
 Minnesota — the people had been first in the wilderness. Communities 
 had appeared in the clearings and in the meadowlands at the bends 
 of rivers, and crops had been harvested before the coming of the first 
 tracklayer. 
 
 Here in a newer and more lonesome world, everything was changed 
 about. Surveyors and graders and gandy dancers were striking out 
 into a vast emptiness as wide as the continent of Europe and as far 
 from civilization as the plains of Mars. Over the endless carpet of 
 grass they were laying out their fretwork of ties and iron. Behind 
 them on the far horizon unfamiliar plumes of smoke marked the 
 advent of the pot-stacked locomotive that tomorrow would be at 
 today's end of the rail, rousing echoes never heard in this land since 
 the creation of the world. Swarms of men would come out of nowhere, 
 drop their odd loads of wood or stone or metal, and move on toward 
 nowhere across the horizon. Presently the trains would be here and 
 over the hill after them. And that would be the oddest feature of 
 all this odd undertaking because there would be nobody here to 
 ride on trains — not today or, some skeptics felt certain, tomorrow, 
 or ever. 
 
 The Dakota Southern Railroad Company, over which the redoubt- 
 able John I. Blair was presently to trip himself up, was first into the 
 territory with a line from Sioux Falls to Yankton which was com- 
 pleted and in operation early in 1873. Promoted by Yankton busi- 
 nessmen to meet a purely local situation, it could hardly be con- 
 
 159 
 
1 60 T H E L A S T F U O N TI E R 
 
 sidcrcd a part of the great conquest of the West by steam, altliough 
 it played its part. For one thing, it proved tiiat a railroad might 
 be run with profit in the territory if people could survive there, and 
 its construction was convincing proof to hesitant land-seekers that 
 settlers were finally moving into southeastern Dakota's fertile val- 
 leys. 
 
 As has been mentioned elsewhere, the white influx into the land 
 of the Dakotas began somewhere near the junction of the Big 
 Sioux and the Missouri rivers and extended in a leisurely fashion up 
 the Missouri. This was not because land in that region was any 
 more promising than elsewhere along the east side of the territory. 
 But it was closer to transportation and therefore closer to the 
 civilization that newcomers to these parts seemed reluctant to leave. 
 
 The depression of 1873, which was to hamper railroad construc- 
 tion in the prairie country for many years, seems to have had its 
 midwestern debut in a North Western special train at Winona, Min- 
 nesota. There had been considerable progress during the first part 
 of the year. The Baraboo Air Line had been completed, connected 
 with the La Crosse, Trcmpleau and Prescott road, and opened for 
 business to Winona on September 1-i. The Winona and St. Peter 
 road was finished to Lake Kampeska in the Dakota Territory and 
 was opened by a gala excursion of bankers, merchants, grain brok- 
 ers, industrialists, and other important citizens from Chicago, leav- 
 ing on Monday, September 15. 
 
 All was good cheer until the party arrived in Winona and got off 
 the train for what was to have been a roaring local reception. They 
 were met by a harried telegrapher with a message. Jay Cooke & 
 Company had failed, and the panic was on. 
 
 Probably no group of men with a more vital interest in the news 
 could have been found anywhere in the Mississippi Valley. But de- 
 spite anxiety and alarm, most of the traveling tycoons decided to 
 go ahead and get what consolation they might out of the develop- 
 ment of the West. At St. Peter that same evening they got another 
 shock. Another telegram was handed aboard the train, this one stat- 
 ing that Chicago was burning down for a second time and that the 
 partly rebuilt business district had ah-eady been totally destroyed. 
 
 This time the train was held. Quick telegrams to Chicago proved 
 that there was no truth in the report, that it had not originated in 
 
ADVANCE ON THE DAKOTAS 161 
 
 Chicago, but possibly from Milwaukee, Madison, or St. Paul, and 
 nothing more than that was ever learned about it. 
 
 Relieved by one bit of good news to balance the bad, the excur- 
 sionists went on to reach Lake Kampeska and what must have looked 
 like them to be the ultimate in desolation, the next morning. 
 
 There was little here in a rail end, 64:0 miles from Chicago, sur- 
 rounded by Indians and roving herds of buffalo, to make them for- 
 get that the financial structure of the whole country was falling 
 down. There were virtually no settlers in South Dakota save the fur 
 traders along the Missouri. Western Minnesota, through which they 
 had just passed, was practically unknown. 
 
 So they went home, to worry about the future of the country, 
 through a territory that was to be in one generation one of the rich- 
 est in the world. Where the buffaloes had grazed would be trim, fer- 
 tile farms with comfortable homes and capacious barns. Land that 
 might have been theirs as a gift was in the near future to sell for 
 $1,000 an acre. And they had seen not so much the building of a 
 railroad as the beginning of a miracle. 
 
 From this point on, according to Doane Robinson,* for many 
 years state historian of South Dakota, "railroad building in the 
 larger sense was due to the forward vision of Marvin Hughitt, presi- 
 dent of the Chicago and North Western line, who after a personal 
 inspection of the Dakota prairies concluded that it was good busi- 
 ness to extend railroads across them as an inducement to business. 
 This had not previously been done except to hold grants of land." 
 He continues : 
 
 Following his vision he projected the Dakota Central division of the 
 North Western road west from a connection with the Winona and St. 
 Peter division at Tracy, Minnesota to Pierre in 1879-80. His theory was 
 promptly confirmed by an influx of settlers, which justified the construc- 
 tion of the other lines that make up the Chicago and North Western Sys- 
 tem east of the Missouri River. 
 
 When Mr. Hughitt announced his plans, the Chicago, Milwaukee and 
 St. Paul Railroad, his chief competitor in the northwestern field, accepted 
 it as a challenge and forthwith projected its own system into the state. 
 In due course other lines followed. . . . 
 
 • Robinson, Doane, Encyclopedia of South Dakota, published by the state of 
 South Dakota at Pierre, S.D., 1895. 
 
162 THE LAST mONTIER 
 
 It was at this point, in May, 1879, that John Blair came to Yank- 
 ton to see about buying a railroad — and met defeat. He was an old 
 man, and tlie competition proved to be too much for him. 
 
 John Blair's party consisted of C. E. Vail of Blairstown, New 
 Jersey; D. C. Blair, Belden, New Jersey; John Bain, Scranton, 
 Pennsylvania; and sundry others who had been identified with him 
 in the railroad business.* They had come from the East to meet 
 C. G. Wicker and George E. Marchant of the Dakota Southern 
 Railroad Company. These men had recently constructed a branch 
 line called the Sioux City and Pembina which followed the Big Sioux 
 Valley nortliwurd as far us Beloit, Iowa, opjjosite Canton, South 
 Dakota. 
 
 The line had strategic value to the North Western system. Con- 
 struction of a short spur would have connected it with the Omaha's 
 east and west road at Sioux Falls. And Blair wanted it. He bought 
 52 per cent of the Dakota Southern stock for cash after a brief 
 negotiation and changed the title of the road to the Sioux City and 
 Dakota Railway Company. After that he did nothing much for a 
 year. 
 
 Yankton, currently the capital of the territory, was without a 
 railroad and possibly seemed a better prospect for exploitation than 
 Sioux Falls. At any rate, Blair turned his attention to Yankton. 
 
 At a meeting with the local businessmen and officials he pointed 
 out that the Milwaukee road was just about to bring Sioux City 
 and Sioux Falls closer to numerous points in the Missouri Valley 
 than Yankton. He proposed to extend the Sioux City and Pembina 
 branch up the James River to Yankton, providing the people of 
 Yankton would build a depot and donate a right of way through 
 the county. Yankton agreed. Surveyors came along to plot the 
 right of way. But about that time Wicker became restive. He paid 
 a visit to Blair. 
 
 He had received an offer from the Milwaukee road, he said, for 
 the remaining 48 per cent of his stock. The Milwaukee, he explained, 
 was anxious to take over the whole road for which reason he sug- 
 gested that Blair sell out to his competitors or buy the 48 per cent 
 minority block himself. 
 
 • Kingsbury, G. W., Tlistorii of Dakota Territory, privately printed by Mr. 
 Kingsbury "at Yankton, S.D., IHBS. 
 
ADVANCE ON THE DAKOTAS 163 
 
 What Blair thought of this proposition is difficult to establish. 
 Wicker says that he agreed to buy and resorted to evasive tactics 
 when held to his promise. But Wicker may have been a little biased. 
 
 For some months negotiations remained at a standstill. Then 
 along about March 15, 1880, AVickcr got impatient and sold his 
 stock to the Milwaukee. 
 
 Up to that point the relationship between the Milwaukee officials 
 and Blair had been considerably short of lethal. In the Sioux City 
 terminal area the Milwaukee had been operating on a rental basis 
 over Sioux City and Dakota railway tracks, and all had been sweet- 
 ness and light. But four days after Wicker's defection there were 
 changes. 
 
 Blair issued an order denying the Milwaukee the use of his tracks, 
 sheds, roundhouses, and shops. 
 
 Next day the Milwaukee came back vnih a writ restoring all 
 former privileges and declaring itself the majority stockholder in 
 Blair's railroad. Blair and his associates counted up the 52 per cent 
 of stock they had bought from Wicker, found that it was still 52 per 
 cent, scratched their heads, and called in the lawyers. It was all very 
 confusing until March 20, when Wicker issued an explanatory state- 
 ment : 
 
 Mr. Blair had a 52 per cent interest as against my 48 per cent interest 
 in the road with the Pembina branch completed to Detroit, Iowa. With 
 the extension of the line from the latter place to Sioux Falls, the com- 
 pany was entitled to issue additional stock and bonds. A meeting was 
 called and this was done. 
 
 The additional stock issued to me on the extension added to what I 
 already had, just oversized Mr. Blair's interest. And this was transferred 
 to the Milwaukee, leaving Mr. Blair in the minority. 
 
 The Board of Directors then leased the Sioux City and Dakota line to 
 the Milwaukee, and bonds issued on the extension from Beloit to Sioux 
 Falls were also sold to the same company for 90 per cent par. 
 
 The same night a letter was sent to Mr. Blair containing a draft for 
 $198,276.47 to his order and representing his entire investment in these 
 lines including interest to date. 
 
 This indicates that there has been no intent to defraud Mr. Blair out 
 of any money he may have put into these enterprises ; but as he would 
 neither buy nor sell, he has just been forced to take his own and step out. 
 
164 THE LAST FRONTIER 
 
 Kingsbury, the Dakota historian, states that this was the first 
 time John I. Blair had ever been outsmarted in a railroad deal — 
 which is probably true. He seems to have known more about the 
 higher mathematics of grants and subsidies and allowances per mile 
 than anybody else in the country. But in this case, having lost the 
 dice he never got them back again. 
 
 A week after Wicker's coup he came to Yankton and laid the 
 matter before the courts. 
 
 He asked orders against the present management of the Sioux City 
 and Dakota company restraining operations, extensions, and ex- 
 penditures. He denied Wicker's contention that the extension of the 
 Pembina branch to Sioux Falls had justified the issue of additional 
 stock. He contended that he had built the extension himself at a 
 cost of $200,000. 
 
 He put up a good argument. But Judge Shannon decided against 
 him in July. It was one of the few adverse decisions Blair had ever 
 experienced. 
 
 He took it calmly enough, thanked the court politely, and an- 
 nounced that he would not appeal the case. A few days later he 
 sold his stock in the Sioux City and Dakota lines and went back 
 East. 
 
 The financial world stood amazed, not that he had been tricked, 
 but because he had been willing to accept a humiliating defeat with- 
 out putting up some sign of a fight. 
 
 Ferguson, who attended the Yankton hearings, sums it up in his 
 own way. 
 
 "Blair," he says, "had passed the age when ambition seeks ag- 
 grandizement. . . . He was old and he was tired." 
 
 Motivated by the land rush of the late seventies, the drive west- 
 ward might have gone on without predictable limits save for one 
 thing. Both the North Western and the Milwaukee roads reached 
 the Missouri in 1880. But there they stopped. Between the river 
 and the western boundary of the territory lay the great Sioux 
 reservation. In exchange for lands in Minnesota and elsewhere, by 
 virtue of a solemn pact with the Sioux, this was strictly Indian 
 country into which, theoretically, the white man and his iron horses 
 would never be allowed to penetrate. The government made a virtu- 
 
ADVANCE ON THE DAKOTAS 
 
 165 
 
 ous show of maintaining the treaty as it applied to the West River 
 territory no matter what was happening to it elsewhere — which was 
 quite a lot. So the railroads sat in Chamberlain and Pierre while 
 their representatives harangued Washington, and their surveying 
 crews studied the trans-Missouri flatlands with mixed emotions. 
 
 In 1880 the pattern of the present railway system was well established as gaps 
 between isolated lines disappeared. Gold in South Dakota's Black Hills was to 
 be the magnet in the next decade. 
 
 The land beyond the western bluffs was different from the prairies 
 behind them, now greenly opulent with growing wheat and corn. 
 Over there the wild little tributaries of the Missouri had carved 
 a disheartening array of deep gullies. After the gullies came stretches 
 of grassland whose fertility had never been tested. And in the dis- 
 tance, as one approached the Magic Mountains, stretched the Bad 
 Lands, a region that few men had seen and thousands had heard 
 about with complete skepticism — an utterly fantastic place of fluted 
 ravines and crenelated walls — a melange of glittering towers and 
 spires and minarets and moated castles. 
 
I (56 T II E L A S T r n O N T I E R 
 
 A mysterious and unpredictable area, this unpluiiibed land across 
 the river. A few men had traversed it — trappers, adventurers, out- 
 riders for the railroads. But their reports made little sense. Through 
 them ran the vague influence of the unknown — Indian superstition ; 
 black magic ; death in unexplainable forms ; charms, taboos, and 
 deadly curses. The engineering parties, the land agents, the town- 
 site promoters were agreed on one point : it would take a lot of argu- 
 ment to induce peaceful settlers to follow the rails into a region so 
 damned by legend. 
 
 Good business sense might have caused loud rejoicing that the 
 rails had come as far as they could and that the Dakota boom had 
 finished in commonplace farms east of the river. But another factor 
 had entered into the lives of the people of South Dakota and the 
 men who governed them and the railroads that served them and the 
 Indians who sat at their western fence line. Gold had been discovered 
 in the Black Hills. 
 
 The history of the Magic Mountains, awesome uplift at the south- 
 west corner of South Dakota, is extremely meager until the middle 
 seventies, when they were overrun with trouble. The Verendrye 
 brothers visited the region in 1743 but weren't sufficiently impressed 
 to leave a record of any value. Standing Buffalo, an Oglala, ven- 
 tured into them in 1775. French traders and trappers, who wan- 
 dered for a hundred years through adjacent territories, knew of 
 them, probably had seen them closely enough to call them the "Black 
 Hills," but apparently never had enough curiosity to explore them. 
 
 The Black Hills, of course, are not hills at all, but mountains of 
 impressive proportions, the oldest range in the United States if not 
 in the world. AMien viewed from a few miles' distance they really are 
 black, taking their color from the dense growth of pines on their 
 flanks. Their sombre coloration and the frequent thunderstorms 
 that echo through miles of rocky canyons caused the Sioux to 
 stand in complete awe of them. They were hallowed ground, the home 
 of the Great Manitou and, therefore, taboo to humans. 
 
 They were obdurate in their treaty negotiations on the point 
 that the region should be held sacred by the whites as well as Indians 
 and they received solemn assurance that the Black Hills should 
 
ADVANCE ON THE DAKOTAS 167 
 
 remain theirs "as long as the grass shall grow or the waters shall 
 run." 
 
 The grass continued to grow until August, 1873, when a scout 
 brought word to Fort Abraham Lincoln, near Bismarck, that he had 
 seen indications of gold on the west slope of the Black Hills. On 
 orders from above. General George Armstrong Custer, with 1,200 
 cavalrymen, rode out to investigate. There had been a serious panic 
 in the land, and the economic value of a new gold strike outweighed 
 the worth of governmental promises. 
 
 AVith the expedition went Horatio N. Ross, about whom little is 
 known except his name. It is certain, however, that he was a prac- 
 tical miner. He found gold in the sands of French Creek near the 
 present site of Custer, South Dakota, on or about July 27, 1874. 
 
 Some optimist directly responsible for the prospecting of the 
 Hills felt that any discovery of gold could be kept secret. But inside 
 of a month everybody in the United States had heard about it. And 
 in frequently repeated conversation Ross's little show of dust had 
 become a fabulous bonanza. 
 
 The rush began immediately'. Hundreds of men who had never 
 before heard of the Black Hills were on their way overnight. Wagon- 
 train outfitters began to do a business in Sioux City, Norfolk, and 
 Sidney. Before the winter of 1874 considerable camps of gold seekers 
 had been set up around the foot of Harney Peak and loose-footed 
 prospectors were wandering about the northern Hills. 
 
 The government, belatedly conscious of the broken treaty, made 
 some effort to stop this influx. Cavalrymen were sent out onto the 
 trails from the south and east to drive back would-be settlers. White 
 men already in the Hills were ordered to get out. But by the time 
 the Army got around to carry out this agenda, the damage was 
 done. 
 
 By 1875 so many fortune hunters were headed for southwestern 
 Dakota, and so many hundreds of them had eluded the cavalrymen, 
 that the sanctity of the Hills could not have been maintained with- 
 out a larger army and considerable violence. The quarantine order 
 was rescinded. The Sioux, when they protested this flagrant viola- 
 tion of their rights, were pushed out onto the plains beyond the 
 Hills. In another few months, Custer and his command were to pay 
 for official double talk in the battle of the Little Big Horn. 
 
168 THE LAST FRONTIER 
 
 In the fall of 1875, John Pearson, one of the venturesome pros- 
 pectors who liad gone into the northern Hills instead of loitering 
 around French Creek, picked his way into a fire-hlasted canyon 
 strewn with dead timber. At the junction of two clear mountain 
 streams, which were to run sluggisiily black for more than fifty 
 years, he found color in the gravel. He knew he had made a strike, 
 but he could not have foreseen its importance. For this was Dead- 
 wood Gulch. 
 
 When Pearson gave out word of his discover^' in the spring of 
 1876, Custer City on French Creek was a community of 7,000 inhabi- 
 tants. In a week all but a few hundred had moved out to try their 
 luck in Deadwood. And j^rfsently the rush to the Hills had become a 
 stampede. 
 
 There were no railroads near this corner of Dakota Territory. 
 There were no wagon roads leading into it — not even trails. There 
 were no maps of the region, or experienced guides, for only the 
 military had made a study of the Magic Mountains. And in 1876 
 the soldiers, particularly the troopers of the Seventh Cavalry, were 
 occupied with their own personal concerns. By the time the Dead- 
 wood boom got under way, however, the Chicago and North Western 
 Railway was selling transportation from Chicago to various points 
 in the northern Hills. The most favored route was by North Western 
 to Sioux City, Dakota Southern to Yankton, steamboat to Fort 
 Pierre, and Concord coaches across the prairie to Rapid City and 
 towns beyond. First-class fare for this journey was $41. 45. A sec- 
 ond-class ticket sold for ,$34, but the holder got only deck passage 
 on the river steamboat and had to ride with the bull teams from 
 Pierre to the Hills. The North Western also quoted rates over other 
 routes from Cheyenne, Wyoming; Sidney, Nebraska; Sioux City; 
 Yankton; and Bismarck. Horse-coach and oxcart transportation 
 was provided by an auxiliary service known as the North Western 
 Stage Company. 
 
 Reports of the massacre of the Little Big Horn appeared in the 
 newspapers of the East almost alongside the advertisements for 
 the Stage Company. But that made no difference. All through that 
 year when the triumphant Sioux were slaughtering white prospec- 
 tors within calling distance of the settlements, thousands of new- 
 comers paid their $41.45 and were dumped into the roaring camps 
 
ADVANCE ON THE DAKOTAS 169 
 
 at Deadwood, Central City, and Lead. Some of them died. Some 
 moved out again with the next bull train ; more stayed. And despite 
 its isolation and its risks and its uncertain resources, the Black 
 Hills country began to take on the appearance of a prosperous 
 community. 
 
 Up from Fremont, Nebraska, in the seventies, the Fremont, Elk- 
 horn and Missouri Valley Railway, presently a division of the North 
 Western, began to feel its way in the general direction of the Hills. 
 It moved slowly at first when there was nothing ahead of it but the 
 problematical yield of prairies not yet settled — 10 miles this year, 
 17 next 3-ear. But despite financial panics, restrictive legislation, 
 and no business, it was still pulling rails to the west when the gold 
 rush reached its peak. In 1879 it got ahead 58 miles from Wisner 
 to Oakdale. In 1881 it moved 98 miles from Neligh to Long Pine. 
 In 188-i it was rolling over another 137 miles of track between Val- 
 entine and Chadron, Nebraska. A year later it had come to Buffalo 
 Gap, South Dakota, at the south end of the range. And on July 4, 
 1886, the first railroad train beat the last stagecoach in a race for 
 Rapid City. 
 
 Rapid, then as now, was the gateway to tlie Hills. Over to the west 
 of this one-time hay camp, gold-bearing quartz had been turned up 
 at Keystone and Rockerville. Ore was being hauled by ox team to 
 the Rapid City smelter. And local enthusiasts were forecasting the 
 day when neighborhood mines would absorb such inefficient outfits 
 as the Homestake, which was trying to pay dividends on rock that 
 paid only four dollars a ton. One reads in the home-town newspapers 
 of the period that the first train was greeted in a spirit of high car- 
 nival as the harbinger of a new day. 
 
 An elaborate program had been arranged for the entertainment 
 of the passengers. Hundreds of cowboys had come in from the rap- 
 idly growing ranches in the Bad Lands. A couple of local fire com- 
 panies were scheduled to compete in a hose-laying contest. And as 
 an added attraction to amuse the gullible strangers arriving by 
 train, a group of local businessmen had completed plans for a stage- 
 coach holdup. 
 
 Not many men are now alive wlio remember that momentous day. 
 You get something of the flavor of it from the diary of Robert H. 
 
170 THE LAST FKONTIEU 
 
 Driscoll of Lead, who had been invited to ride on the train. Driscoll, 
 who had come to the Hills to take charge of the Homestake schools 
 and became president of the Lead City bank (later the First Na- 
 tional Bank of Lead) was the sort of observer wlio missed few de- 
 tails. Here is his story. 
 
 Wednesday, June 30 — Warm. Left Lead 8 :30 a.m. — E. May, his wife 
 and child. Miss Franks and I. Met others of the party in Deadwood at 
 10:30 — A. E. Franks, Miss Barry and her friends. Had dinner below 
 Sturgis under a tree. Reached Rapid at 8:30 p.m. Good supper. 
 
 Thursday, July 1 — Left Rapid at 10 a.m. Drove 8 miles to train. . . . 
 
 This entry might be difficult to understand unless one remembers 
 that the arrival of tlie first train was not only an important event, 
 but the biggest show that had come to the Black Hills since The 
 Mikado played 1-iO performances in Deadwood in 1882. The tracks 
 apparently had been completed right up to the depot site. But the 
 train, star performer of the pageant, was waiting off stage — 8 miles 
 off stage — to make an entrance at the proper dramatic moment 
 amid a blasting fanfare of trumpets and a hullaballoo of drums. 
 
 But the train, it seems, wasn't merely loitering. It had other 
 things to do. Driscoll and his friends got onto the train and then — 
 
 Arrived Buffalo Gap at 5 p.m.; Chadron 7:15. A number of friends and 
 acquaintances were on the train including W. H. Parker and Ben Baer. 
 At 8:30 saw the ladies off for Omaha in charge of Mr. West. 
 
 Sunday, July 4. Took train at 7 a.m. for the Gap. Saw Billy Baird, 
 Pete Lowrey and others on their way to Rapid. 
 
 Arrived Rapid at noon on the first train that entered the city. . . . 
 Hottest day ever experienced — 110° in shade at Rapid. Dinner at Park 
 Hotel — its opening meal. 
 
 Monday, July 5. About 75 people here from Lead for celebration which 
 was badly managed. The hose race was a fizzle. 
 
 Driscoll makes no mention of the mock holdup which was to have 
 terrified the steam-propelled tenderfeet from the East. His diary 
 makes the omission understandable. The first train arrived according 
 to schedule amid the prearranged tumult and shouting. But the 
 passengers weren't exactly gullible. Lor the most part they were 
 people like Driscoll, denizens of Lead and Deadwood and Sturgis 
 and Rapid who had ridden the train to Chadron so that they might 
 
ADVANCE ON THE DAKOTAS 111 
 
 come back on the so-called maiden voyage. ("About seventy-five 
 people from Lead were here for the celebration.") 
 
 The Sidney stage, with perfect timing, was in the lead when the 
 locomotive swung into the curve at the east end of town. It was just 
 about alongside as the train slowed down at the platform. The fun- 
 loving bandits, who have never been properly identified, leaped out 
 from behind a shed, covered the bored driver with shotguns, and cut 
 the horses loose. They fired several shots in the air, unnoticed by 
 anybody except three customers who scrambled out of the coach 
 and ran away. The train passengers, busy shaking hands with 
 friends on the reception committee and with each other, apparently 
 saw none of this. The only official notice taken of the mock holdup 
 came from a doctor who, that afternoon, cared for a hay dealer who 
 had been cast as one of the masked bandits. A horse had stepped on 
 his foot. 
 
a 
 
 lav/er 2^/ 
 
 THE GREAT CAPITAL FIGHT 
 
 From its territorial days, South Dakota's development had gone 
 along side by side with the extension and expansion of two great 
 railway systems, the Chicago and North Western and the Chicago, 
 Milwaukee and St. Paul. Pierre was the western terminus of the 
 North Western's line through a region whose development had only 
 just begun. Mitchell was the terminus of the Chicago, Saint Paul, 
 Minneapolis and Omaha's road from Bigelow, Minnesota, through 
 Sioux Falls, but it was also the crossing of two of the Milwaukee's 
 important divisions. 
 
 Whether they liked it or not, the railroads became involved in 
 the long-drawn-out political squabble over a capital site, not only 
 as interested contenders but as its principal causes. Although the 
 conclusion of the capital fight takes us ahead into the early 1900's, 
 the story is worth relating here for the light it throws on American 
 politics, human nature, and certain aspects of railroad building. 
 
 The bill that established the Dakota Territory was passed in 
 March, 1861, and President Lincoln took over the work of appoint- 
 ing officers and completing a territorial organization. Captain John 
 Blair Smith Todd, a cousin of Mrs. Lincoln, owner of a series of 
 trading posts through the Dakotas, freely tendered his advice to the 
 President — and it is possible that the President, needing advice, 
 listened. 
 
 Dr. William Jaync, who had been Lincoln's personal physician 
 in Sjjringfield, Illinois, was appointed governor, with power to select 
 the site for the territorial capital. Significantly he proceeded di- 
 rectly to Yankton where, in the summer of 1861, he opened his office. 
 In March, 1862, he convened the Legislature, which passed a bill 
 
 172 
 
THE GREAT CAPITAL FIGHT 173 
 
 establishing Yankton as the permanent seat of government. Yankton 
 retained this distinction during fifteen sessions. 
 
 Up in the north, so far away that the settlers trickling into the 
 lower Missouri Valley had hardly heard of it, was the town Bis- 
 marck, named for a German chancellor and brought to life in the 
 early seventies by the arrival of the Northern Pacific railroad. With 
 the railroad came one Alex McKenzie, erstwhile director of track- 
 laying, presentl}' to get a rating as the first real political boss of 
 Dakota. 
 
 McKenzie was a practical man. He had traded extensively in ter- 
 ritorial lands and securities and he was anxious to maintain the 
 value of his holdings. It seemed to him that the Dakota Territory 
 might operate more efficiently and so enhance the worth of its lands 
 and paper if it had a capital that could be reached in something less 
 than a week's travel. He thought, although he didn't talk about it, 
 that Bismarck might be a good spot — particularly now that Bis- 
 marck had a railroad. 
 
 McKenzie — handsome, affable, personable, convincing — easily got 
 the respect and confidence of Nehemiah Ordway, territorial governor 
 during this period. Ordway agreed to slip a bill through the Legis- 
 lature authorizing a commission of nine members to name a capital 
 site without putting the matter to a popular vote. And so it was 
 done while the free electorate howled to high heaven. 
 
 The boss from Bismarck was thoroughly unpopular at that mo- 
 ment. But he had an abiding patience and an unruffled temper. He 
 knew that a strong capital-removal party had been growing up in 
 the Legislature for years before he broached his plan to Governor 
 Ordway. Politicians from other towns in the territory were openly 
 hostile toward what they called "the capital clique." Just as openly 
 the natives of Yankton in public office combined forces against the 
 outlanders. 
 
 So McKenzie wandered about with his capital commission stir- 
 ring up Sioux Falls against Pierre, and Huron against Aberdeen. 
 When he had built up enough rancor he finally introduced the name 
 of Bismarck. The majority of the commissioners who voted with him 
 did so because they disliked Bismarck less than Aberdeen, Huron, 
 Pierre, Sioux Falls, Mitchell, or Chamberlain. 
 
 Yankton did not accept the capital commission's findings without 
 
174 T II E L A S T K K O N T I E n 
 
 a protest. There were sundry legal maneuvers, but nevertheless Bis- 
 marck put up a capitol and began to transact the business of the 
 territory in 1885. In 1889, when the Dakotas were admitted to the 
 Union as two states, McKenzic's selection became the permanent 
 seat of the government of North Dakota. 
 
 In preparation for the elevation of Soutli Dakota to statehood, 
 the territorial Legislature in 1885 provided for a constitutional 
 convention to be held in "that portion of the territory south of the 
 ■leth parallel." The enabling act provided that the people were to 
 choose a temporary capital. Alexandria, Huron, Pierre, Sioux Falls, 
 and Cliambcrlain were candidates. Huron won. 
 
 That didn't settle the matter. At the referendum provided by the 
 constitution in 1889, Pierre competed with Huron, Sioux Falls, 
 Watertown, Mitchell, and Chamberlain for permanent designation. 
 The campaign turned into one of the noisiest wrangles ever heard in 
 American politics. 
 
 Pierre's proponents thought the capital should remain where it 
 was, because, first, the town had 2 miles of street railway — horse- 
 drawn but reasonably speedy and comfortable; second, it was the 
 site of the Presbyterian University (which later moved away) ; third, 
 it had a large brick packing house; and fourth, it was the geo- 
 graphical center of the state. 
 
 Into the argument came the Woonsocket Capital Investment Com- 
 pany with an eye to town lot sales and a decided preference for 
 Pierre. Agents of the company announced that they controlled 10,- 
 000 votes — a statement that was never disproved. These partisans 
 bought up land on the edge of the village, opened an office, and began 
 an effective campaign to boom Pierre as a fine capital and also as a 
 good real-estate investment. 
 
 At this time tlie Locke Hotel — one of the largest buildings of its 
 sort in western South Dakota — was under constniction. Presently 
 festoons of electric lights were in the streets. The lights, the hotel, 
 and other indications that somebody was willing to gamble on the 
 town's future aroused the indignation of Huron and Mitchell. They 
 started an immediate canvass of their districts and presently stored 
 up enough cash for some fine experiments in corruption. In this they 
 were aided by other towns in tiie James Valley which, realizing that 
 they were being forced out of the running by lack of suitable slush 
 
THE GREAT CAPITAL FIGHT 175 
 
 funds, rallied round their neighbors as against little Pierre sitting 
 complacently by its lonesome river and jingling the cash in its 
 pockets. 
 
 In July, 1890, one learns from the record of George Martin 
 Smith,* both Pierre and Huron made preparations to entertain an 
 editorial excursion from Pierre across the reservation to the Black 
 Hills and return. Pierre was obviously anxious to get a favorable 
 press for the West River country. Huron was just as anxious to 
 give the tourists a lot of unforgettable discomfort in the wild Indian 
 country. The Pierre enthusiasts sent down to St. Louis for twenty- 
 five large tents to house the editors en route. They provided also a 
 number of freight wagons to carry the tents, wire bedsprings, mat- 
 tresses, and baggage. "A load of ice," says Smith, "was taken along 
 to cool the lemonade, mineral water and other seasonable, refreshing 
 and harmless drinks." The transportation committee also provided 
 thirty carriages to carry four passengers each. A billeting detail 
 traveled ahead of the caravan to pick out pleasant camping places 
 en route. And everybody seemed well pleased with the arrange- 
 ments. 
 
 The excursion ended at Rapid City, and the editors were allowed 
 to wander about the hills as they pleased. In due time they were re- 
 turned to the caravan and by easy stages drove across the prairie 
 to Pierre and home. Pierre, according to the loudest commentators 
 of the period, paid all expenses of the trip both ways. Other towns 
 in the Missouri Valley were incensed and theoretically shocked. 
 
 Pierre won the election. But that was only the beginning. Huron's 
 political representatives began to work for the relocation of the 
 capital at the first session of the State Legislature and continued 
 their activity with increasing confidence year after year. 
 
 How effective the propaganda had been became evident in 1897 
 when a resolution was introduced in the Legislature amending the 
 constitution to read, "The permanent seat of government shall be 
 at Huron." 
 
 It failed to carry but it started an agitation that continued 
 through several sessions. By 1901 the proremoval faction had mus- 
 tered enough strength to risk a vote. But once more there were diffi- 
 
 * Smith, G. M., South Dakota, Its History and Its People, S. J. Clarke Publish- 
 ing Company, Chicago, 1915. 
 
176 THE LAST FnONTIER 
 
 cultics. Huron's elocutionists were no longer alone. Mitchell had 
 come forward with modest claims for recognition as a possible capi- 
 tal. So had Redfieid, able victor in the Spink County wars. Just 
 around the corner was Chamberlain with similar ambitions. 
 
 The leaders of the revolt against Pierre realized that a split vote 
 would ruin them. So they suggested that the supporters of the sev- 
 eral prospective capitals hold a caucus and agree to support the 
 town that showed the best prospects. To the surprise of the state's 
 newspaper readers and the chagrin of Huron's weary workers, 
 Mitchell won in the caucus. 
 
 At the closing session of the Legislature, a resolution was intro- 
 duced submitting an amendment to the constitution changing the 
 capital from Pierre to Mitchell. It provoked a long filibuster but 
 eventually passed the House. The Pierre faction was strong enough 
 to defeat it in the Senate the next day. 
 
 In 190.3 the capital transfer came up again, attended by such 
 vociferous claques, pro and con, that it seemed to be the only issue 
 of any importance in the state — as indeed it turned out to bo. The 
 backers of the status quo decided there would be no peace in the 
 Legislature until the matter was put to a popular vote and they 
 offered little opposition as the removal bill swept througli both 
 Houses. 
 
 And thus the stage was set for one of the most fantastic perform- 
 ances ever seen in American politics. 
 
C/u 
 
 'lapter 22 
 
 PICNICS AND EXCURSIONS 
 
 Looking back at the "Great Capital Fight" as the South Dakota 
 newspapers called it, you find it difficult to believe that the issues 
 involved were really important enough to justify the high blood 
 pressure they brought to an entire state. People who had never been 
 in Pierre or Mitchell either and would have been hard put to de- 
 scribe their whereabouts suddenly became avid partisans. Calm 
 souls, who never had known what a capital was for or cared two 
 hoots where it functioned, presently were arguing with the logic and 
 finesse of Arabs embarked on a jihad. To unsmiling men haranguing 
 the tense crowds in a couple of hundred Odd Fellows' Halls in a 
 couple of hundred South Dakota towns, the whole business betokened 
 a great public awakening. To tired observers who followed the popu- 
 lace in its gyrations for six or seven months, it looked like a sort of 
 millennial clambake — and that, one guesses, is what it most nearly 
 was. 
 
 For a year after the Legislature decided to submit the matter to 
 a referendum, preparations for listening to the voice of the sovereign 
 people went on with commendable calm and dignity. Maybe, after a 
 while, the crusade was to turn into an all-clown circus. But in its 
 early days at least it was previewed as a rite of great significance, 
 like the freeing of the slaves or the crossing of the Red Sea. 
 
 The pattern of propaganda disclosed in the preliminaries was re- 
 maikably complete. As a matter of fact it has been used with little 
 change in two more recent wars of greater magnitude. During 1903 
 teams of "convincers" roamed about the state visiting editors and 
 petitioning support. They scattered a blizzard of prepared editorials 
 concerning the justice and urgency of their cause. They placed a 
 little advertising — but not much — setting forth the advantages of 
 
 177 
 
178 T II E L A ST F It O N T I E n 
 
 Pierre — or Mitcliell — over all the other cities in the world: Pierre, 
 for exiiiiiple, was more serious-minded than Paris; Mitchell was easier 
 to get about in than London. But, of course, these arguments were 
 advanced only one at a time and b\' one side at a time. 
 
 They ran little historical contests in the schools — a nice prize for 
 the best essay on the relationship between truth or loyalty or beauty 
 and the location of state capitals. The tenor of the essays might de- 
 pend on which side was offering the prize, and though they were all 
 printed in one or another of the local newspapers it seems doubtful 
 that they influenced many votes. On the other hand they kept things 
 fairly well stirred up and started family arguments that are not 
 yet finished. 
 
 The missionaries from Mitchell and Pierre were considerably 
 handicapped by communication lacks. Moving-picture theaters where 
 an orator with a message could always get permission to bore the 
 audience for five minutes had not yet come into being. Radio hadn't 
 yet been thought of even by Jules Verne. But the propaganda got 
 around just the same. 
 
 "A private talk with a good politician is worth half a dozen 
 Fourth of July orations," old Pat Kclleher of Rapid City once ob- 
 served on this subject. And there is reason to believe that he knew 
 what he was talking about. Much of that restless year was spent in 
 conferences between earnest workers and very important personages. 
 It was thought, of course, that each good politician, once shown 
 where his duty lay, would pass on the tidings to his constituents — 
 that each important person could bring influence to bear on unde- 
 cided voters in their own communities. These subagents took up their 
 work quietly and for a long time avoided public disagreement with 
 rival "influencers" similarly engaged. So intramural friction didn't 
 become noticeable in South Dakota's urban areas until 190-i. By 
 that time the orators were hiring halls and calling each other fight- 
 ing names. The newspapers had quit printing little essays on patriot- 
 ism and truth and beauty and were substituting invective about "The 
 Capital Crime!" "The Shame of South Dakota!" "The Great Be- 
 trayal !" Both factions presented virtually the same editorials with 
 different names. 
 
 For a time the two quietest towns in the state appear to have been 
 Mitchell and Pierre. Everybody in those communities knew how he 
 
PICNICS AND EXCURSIONS 179 
 
 was going to vote, so there was no need for argument. But elsewhere 
 the tension began to increase noticeably. Over in Sioux Falls two 
 visitors from New York, who had come to South Dakota looking for 
 quick divorces, got into a fist fight over the capital question in the 
 Cataract Hotel bar. In Hot Springs a worried husband complained 
 to the authorities that his wife, a native of Mitchell, had barred the 
 door to him because he favored Pierre. And there was a lot of minor 
 unpleasantness at Sunday-school picnics, school-board meetings, 
 high school debates, and family reunions. Save for the business of 
 locating the capital, there was little political activity in the state 
 that year — there wasn't room for it. 
 
 It occurred to somebody on one of the railroads that a cheer leader 
 might be more efficient if he knew what he was cheering for. So a 
 junket was arranged to carry a load of Very Important People to 
 whatever capital site that railroad reached. There was no Federal 
 law against the issuance of passes in those days — which turned out 
 to be unfortunate for both contenders. If one line showed favors to 
 important people, then obviously the other line had to be just as 
 gracious. So another trainload of prominent citizens was hauled to 
 another capital site. And then, of course, there were other trainloads, 
 because the number of important citizens in any community is vir- 
 tually unlimited. 
 
 At first these proceedings were carried out with no fanfare. It 
 is good business psychology to let a special customer feel that he is 
 getting special attention. But the decorum didn't last long. V.I.P.'s 
 are seldom reticent about the wonderful things that happen to them. 
 So they went home and told their less favored neighbors where they 
 had been. 
 
 In great indignation the slighted ones stormed the railroad offices. 
 \Miy should Mr. Box get a free ride to Pierre or Mitchell when Mr. 
 Cox was overlooked? Wasn't Mr. Cox's voice in the capital site selec- 
 tion just as important as his neighbor's? Was something going to be 
 done to wipe out this deliberate insult? It was. More passes were 
 poured into the hills. New regiments of the electorate were hauled 
 hundreds of miles to look at whatever town they were supposed to 
 vote for. Citizens who lived in communities served by both the North 
 Western and the Milwaukee were singularly blessed — they got to 
 visit both towns. 
 
1 80 T H E L A S T F U O N T I E R 
 
 Word of all this travel got around. During the first fiw months 
 of the free excursions only voters had been honored. The women 
 and children who had no vote stayed at home. So presently there was 
 a new wave of indication from a bloc whose influence with the free 
 electors could not very well be denied. More passenger cars were 
 deadheaded into South Dakota. More passes drifted over the Mis- 
 souri Valley like leaves before a high wind. 
 
 Everybody rode who could get to a railroad station — grand- 
 fathers, grandmothers, wives, daughters, and babes in arms. They 
 rode not only to Pierre and Mitchell and way points but to other 
 possible capital sites such as St. Louis, Chicago, and Minneapolis. 
 And, of a sudden, all bitterness vanished. As Kingsbury reported it: 
 
 South Dakota simply suspended business and went on a grand sixty 
 days' picnic. Threshers stood unfed in the fields among the grain shocks; 
 plows rusted in the furrows and potatoes crowded undug in their hills. 
 Merchants locked their doors and schools closed to permit all the people 
 to visit the rival cities. It was a good-natured state-wide campaign with 
 no feature of particular interest save the gay carnival of the people. 
 
 \Miatever else you may say about it, the people certainly had a 
 good time. 
 
 What had started out as a free train ride became a series of all- 
 expense toui's. The village of Pierre, with a population of less than 
 2,000, had to find lodging and food for some 5,000 guests every day 
 for weeks on end. Hotel personnel ran about frantically trying to 
 indicate to the visitors that a 250 per cent increase in population 
 was purely normal. Pierre took its nonpaying customers for rides 
 on Missouri River steamboats. Mitchell, lacking steamboats, fur- 
 nished some circus acts. At every way station in South Dakota, 
 pretty girls distributed campaign badges made out of silk and satin 
 ribbon. Enough of these gay streamers were made up to give the 
 state thousands of patcliwork quilts and pillows, some of which still 
 survive in the State Museum at Pierre. 
 
 The United States had never before seen such a spectacle as the 
 capital fight and probably never will again. Federal laws about the 
 distribution of passes undoubtedly will prevent railroad rivalry from 
 ever again approaching such a state of reckless exuberance. 
 
 To this generation, brought up in the ways of the Interstate Com- 
 
PICNICS AND EXCURSIONS 181 
 
 merce Commission, it seems natural to pay one's fare in advance of 
 a railroad ride. So universal is the acceptance of this idea that the 
 entire West River country still laughs over the logic of Nels Larson 
 who was a section hand in the gay days of 190-1. 
 
 Larson, who had retired, came one day to his local station agent 
 to ask for transportation to Chicago. The agent pointed out that 
 Nels was no longer entitled to passes and tried to explain. 
 
 "Suppose you were driving a wagon and somebody asked you to 
 haul him free in your wagon, what would you think about that?" 
 
 "Well," answered Larson, "I certainly wouldn't refuse him if he 
 was going my way. . . ." 
 
 Whether the yarn is old or new makes no difference. The point is 
 that forty-odd years ago there would have been nothing unusual 
 enough about it to make it funny. Of course, railroads were expected 
 to give j'ou free passes in those days — and of course every train was 
 going your way no matter what way you were going. 
 
 Observers outside the state probably wondered if South Dakota's 
 editors were ever going to speak to one another again. The argument 
 had got so far out of hand that by the end of July, 1904, most every 
 newspaper Moses was able to see the true promised land only in the 
 capital site he favored himself. All the rest of the state, apparently, 
 was a howling wilderness. 
 
 The Rapid City Journal of July 6, 1904, was less excited than the 
 rest: 
 
 Not one man in a hundred in this State ever has actual business at the 
 State capital and the hundredth man usually goes on a pass. To judge 
 from the statements of the iMitchell organs, you would think that every 
 man, woman and child in South Dakota made a religious pilgrimage to 
 the State capital every year, and that a dollar or two more in the expense 
 of getting there would work a great hardship upon the people of our 
 commonwealth. 
 
 Other commentators came closer to apoplexy ; as, for example, the 
 Sioua: Critic of July, 1904: 
 
 If the South Dakotan is a fair man, he does not believe in deceit, hy- 
 pocrisy and tall timber lying. He doesn't want the State settled up if 
 to do it we must misrepresent and bamboozle poor settlers into squatting 
 upon those alkali hills among those prairie dog towns. 
 
182 THELASTFKONTIEU 
 
 The Lcstervillc Ledger of July, 190t, coiiiiiiuiitod: 
 
 Whenever you meet a man that favors Pierre for the capital, you will 
 know that he has either seen the Pierre Boodle Board of Trade or he is 
 from Yankton. If he is from Yankton, he is for Pierre because he is sore 
 at Mitchell; and if he is not from Yankton and favors Pierre he has 
 been told he is a good fellow and has been given a little coin to treat 
 his friends and make votes for Pierre. 
 
 The Lesterville piece was re])iiiite(l on July 16 by the Aberdeen 
 News witli tliis comment : 
 
 Such arguments as the above may cause the people of South Dakota 
 to rush to the polls to endorse them by voting for Mitchell, but they are 
 far more likely to arouse a just resentment against the men who thus 
 vilify half of the State for purely selfish purposes. 
 
 Tiiat same month the Fort Pierre Fair Play, aroused by the harsh 
 criticism of the West River country, put out this information : 
 
 Word has just been received from Professor Carpenter that the gumbo 
 shale and clay near here are the finest material in the world for the manu- 
 facture of Portland cement and that samples of the finished product will 
 be delivered soon. 
 
 The Mitchell RepiihJiran observed in answer : 
 
 They must be a queer kind of agricultural ])roduets that will grow in 
 soil best suited to the making of cement blocks. 
 
 And so it went, a confusion of voices that got louder and more 
 bitter every day. 
 
 And the capital fight, as they called this weird exhibition — oli, 
 yes, the capital figlit. 
 
 Well, Pierre won by a large majority, put up a statehouse, and 
 seems fairly well established as a permanent seat of government. 
 Nobody has suggested any change since the votes were counted. 
 
 And, in case you miglit like to know what happens when victory 
 comes to the hard-working campaigner, well, here it is as reported 
 by a delirious eyewitness : 
 
 Finally the election was held. The capital stayed where it was. Pierre 
 had wisely anticipated this victory and had prepared for an elaborate 
 celebration. When the long train pulled into the station that evening, 500 
 
Grand-daddy of all the locomotive giants that make Chicago their home today 
 is the Pioneer, doughty little engine that blazed the rail trail from the Windy 
 Citv to the West in 184.8. 
 
 Chicago's first r,iilici,iii sl^ilmii, l>iiill in ISIS by the Galena anil ('lilca^o rnioii, 
 was a quaint wootlen structure with a tower from which the railroad president 
 could watch for incoming trains. 
 
Fifth ill the .series of North AVestern's Chi<-af;o stations was this jirctiiil lous 
 arch-roofed l)uil{ling of 1836, the Kiiizie Street Depot, through which passed 
 thousands of settlers, traders, Indians, and fortune hunters into tlie booming 
 West. 
 
 Under the vaull 
 of baggage, sty 
 frontier. 
 
 llcl sll 
 
 •il of tlie Kinzie Street Depot at train time was a melange 
 111 tongues — the great meeting place of civilization and 
 
"Wells Street station of 1881, mosi 
 imposing of Chicago's railroa<l 
 terminals of the past, was tin- 
 great gateway to the jNIiddle 
 AVest's agricultural wealth for a 
 horde of European immigrants. 
 (For history of stations see 
 AppendLx.) 
 
 r^^^^^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 More than thirty nullion [iit-chis pass aimnally tliroui;h North Western's 
 present Chicago terminal, a giant edifice of granite covering three city blocks. 
 As many as 2C0 trains arrive and depart daily. 
 
.^i^ <%;; 
 
 >^- ~ V- 
 
 i'lif Thunder pauses on the river hriilj^e at llockl'onl, IlliMoi>. in Ihi^T. 'llii-. \\;i> 
 a period of locomotives res|)lendeut in hrifjlit jtaiiit and highly polished brass. 
 Almost all were known hv name. 
 
 Supplanted in favor by more luoilrrn cnniiio, the I'luiinr in \Si,'.\ earned lier 
 keep in a construction train. A few years later she was ])ermaneully retncd 
 with a record of some forty years of service. 
 
'^JIS. 
 
 The J. B. Turner of 18G7 proudly carried tlie name and portrait of an early 
 president of the railroad through the wilderness to Wisconsin's towns and 
 lumber camps. 
 
 The famed Onrlaml Limited as it appeared in 190."). .\s early as 1895 it operated 
 as an all-ruUman luxury train between Chicago and San Francisco. A modern 
 counterpart still travels the same route. 
 

 Railroiid music of ninety years 
 afio. Title page of Xortli fi'etilrrn 
 liailira!/ I'olka, tomijoseil in 18o!) 
 and detiicaled to President Ogden 
 and distinguislied gnests who 
 made excursion over newly laid 
 lines in Wisconsin. As catchy as 
 modern jjolkas, it has no lyrics. 
 
 North Western in the eighties 
 already was busy ufivertising the 
 attractions of the Middle West's 
 famed North Wooils, where trav- 
 elers came with jiarasols, deco- 
 rum, and genteel manners of tlic 
 times. Annual editions of "Sum- 
 mer Outings" travel folders are 
 still issued liv the railroad. 
 
 ^1^ 
 
 lis T - IX-l^ci 
 
A fantastic selection of foofls and 
 unheard-of luxury came to the 
 West in 1877 when the railroad 
 introduced the fabulous Pullman 
 hotel cars. The menu included 
 thirty main courses and twenty- 
 fi\e desserts. Fine service ex- 
 tended to highly polished cus- 
 pidors in the aisles. 
 
 CHICAGO & NORTH- WESTERN RAIL WA Y. 
 
 
 IK ini>i;i<i \i. iii«;ii m:sh. 
 
 §:?UJJ>/JtJn:luSU^;5i^ 
 
 Tin'«li<y ■""/ ri}iiis,i:,y. January Hd tiiul /r/i, tsTif, 
 
 AMien the Grand Duke of Russia toured America in 187'2, the railroad prepared 
 a private timetable to guide the nobleman as his special train took him through 
 strange country. 
 
2,000,000 
 
 FARMS of Fertile Prairie Lands 
 to be had Free of Cost 
 
 rie«« Land* t^ 
 
 30 Millions ^^ Acres 
 
 Of dw MaM Praduethi* Grain 
 
 World. Tha aiiachad Map thows tha LocaUon of i^aaa Landa. 
 
 miciso k llortl);f estern R'r 
 
 "nZL" UHD OUTEICT~Or CEITEIL DilOTi- 
 
 H*r* I* one vou c>n (el elmplv bv occupying It. It will be noticed that the 
 
 Northwestern 
 
 N«» Tw« Lin** ol Ro*d that run through to these Lande. It is the on ly Rail Road that reaches them. 
 
 OBTH W£STEBH 
 
 HOMT TO GET THEI^E 
 
 AT craicAoo von can Birr tickets at 
 
 tij CUKE ynUXT: 75 CANAL STREET, Corner of UiAma; at Ihe WELLS STREET DEPOT, on Kinzie Street, north 
 of Wfib SiTrt Bn.lge: inH it KINZIE STREET DEPOT, on the Comer of Kinzie and Cuul Streets. 
 
 ^^B^^H^^V^k IF^aV ^^^V^F^HT^^^ "Voxi cm\ not sot to tlTo Z~,/«r>cls Vjy Unll 
 
 €llil<Migo A Blortli* Western R^y. 
 
 Free land for lioniestejulers was the clarion call sent out by the railroad ui the 
 seventies and early eighties. I'osters were put up everj-where, even in Europe, 
 for the laiid-hiiiiury to read and heed. 
 
XT XS TIXE BEST T^NE FFIOBI CHCICACiO TO 
 
 COUNCIL BLUFFS 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 AND ALL POINTS WEST 
 
 ?ss skid Fiimiie tlik Lise ^u::; 
 
 It ia tlie Shortest, Quickest 
 
 and Best. 
 Zta Hotel Cirs are the best 
 
 ever built. 
 Zta road bed and bridges are 
 
 p«rf»ot. 
 Its rates of fare are as I017 as 
 
 the lowest. 
 Ib all improvements it leads 
 
 its competitors. 
 Zt riuis is an almost air line 
 
 to the Misaonri River. 
 
 h ihoali Pi!r::i:5 tik lias \v.m 
 
 It aloae runs Hotel Cars 't^est 
 of Chicago. 
 
 It has the Best of Steel 
 Tracks. 
 
 Its Passenger Coaches arc mod- 
 ern and unsurpassed. 
 
 By it you can be ticketed to 
 all Western Points. 
 
 It is by all odds the best 
 Western Road. 
 
 Its trains are always on time. 
 and do not miss connections. 
 
 n If- 
 
 i'oi'TJi \ i^ wr 
 
 rtCRN .TRTTNTK LINIC 
 
 ■TMDnil/^IJ irtf*ieCrC vis thi> Route to all WESTERN POINTS, ran I 
 I nnWUVarl ■ l\#nK I O coupon Ticket Office In the United States 
 
 riiacc H<.!e! nf-! Slci. f --g Cars on this Line alone? 
 
 ». ». Mwn, V. M. MIK, 
 
 W. H. STEKKTT. 
 
 Ill liS7!) the luilruiul's allveI•li.■^iug was a,^ agyre.N.>ivo a> cuuld lie luuml anywhere. 
 It (lid not hesitate to give every possible reason why it, and it alone, provided 
 the only proper transportation to the West. 
 
Kowlaml L. Williams, t(Ml:i\'> picsiilfiit of the 
 North Western .system. 
 
Kidv Sliciicy, wiio was nwar.lc.i for licv licrnism l,y iM-iiii; appointed station 
 agent at Moinf^ona, Iowa, was almost forgoLlen by \wv once adoring pnhlic 
 when she posed for this picture in 1904. 
 
Greatest storm in North AVostern's history was in 1880-1881, when diamond- 
 stackers worked all winter in sonthern Minnesota to break through a snowfall 
 reported "14 feet deep on the leveL" 
 
 over a new North Western roundli^ 
 was operated by hand. 
 
 it Waseca, Minnesota. The lurnt.ible 
 
A far cry from the scene on the opposite page is this modern North AVestem 
 streamliner servicing yard in Chicago, where millions of dollars' worth of sleek, 
 colorfvil passenger trains stop briefly each day for complete grooming before 
 hitting the road again. In left foreground is a mechanical car washer, which 
 washes cars at the rate of almost one a minute. 
 
^UMpt**** •fcA.TKaqWIWBI 
 
 BWi^^^^^PMBBHB^BUpr^Wpy^WBBHB^WIC^MBP 
 
 9Hi 
 
 
 ^^^^■^^^^ ' ^ '* 
 
 :'>.^ 
 
 IJinl s eye view of part of Proviso yard, largest freicht classificatioM yard of its 
 kind in the world. A train of freight cars 7 miles long can fit in the huge freight 
 house in center background. 
 
The streamliner era includes more than diesel locomotives on the Xortli Western, 
 which has a fleet of these fast powerful "steamliners" pulling long trains over 
 its main line to the West. 
 
 The City of Los Angeles, one of the railway's fast luxury trains, as it glides out 
 of Chicago in early evening for its dash to the west coast in less than forty hours. 
 
Hu&Aui' 
 
 Mk' 
 
 m 
 
 |PH|i 
 
 i ■ 
 
 . A 
 
 i"r_.. . .^^^^ 
 
 ^^H^^^IP ^^^^H 
 
 1 -"^yH 
 
 z^^ Ig 
 
 ■ '~4l^^^^^ 
 
 ^^^Essrr— ^ 
 
 "i^^^Ml 
 
 'I^^^" 
 
 wSBr tfStWK?' 
 
 IV^Ti'^ 
 
 EP^ r.M 
 
 BQ^ISr jH^Hff' V^K^^Kw^^ 
 
 
 ^e .i.^m 
 
 /^r %\vn; 
 
 
 ^ S!uSK§ ^^^v 
 
 / ^,t~' \ W \S.^ 
 
 '"\ ■ VJ<'%StU^ 
 
 ^l&W M 1 
 
 
 V t^I^ 
 
 Pride of tlic Xortli Western toilav' is the Twin Cities },IH), one of u fleet of similar 
 streamliners wliicli operate between Chicago and nuiny niidwestern cities on 
 fast daytime seliedules. 
 
 North ^\e.sleln as it starteil ont a century ago and as it is today is the story 
 told in this meeting of tlie rioiwi'r of 18-18 and a jOO streamliner of 1948. 
 
PICNICS AND EXCURSIONS 183 
 
 people stepped off amid cheers and joyous acclamations, waving banners 
 on which were emblazoned the words, "Pierre Is the Capital." At once 
 the whole population turned out and bedlam for a season reigned. Bells 
 were tolled, engine whistles were blown, guns were shot off, cannons were 
 fired, and a genuine feast of delight swept the young city for thirty min- 
 utes. The leading men were called out, both in the street and at the opera 
 house and compelled to give voice to the joy that possessed the city. 
 
 A large number of Two Kettle's Indian band was encamped on the 
 river and they too soon joined in the revelry with an energy that dwarfed 
 the transports of the whites. But their enthusiasm was forgiven and even 
 applauded under the extraordinary circumstances. At night the revelry 
 was continued with fireworks, torches, bonfires and dancing in the streets. 
 
 People don't seem to care as much about where capitals are lo- 
 cated as they once did and the cost of a state-wide fiesta nowadays 
 would run to something like five cents the mile. 
 
■te'.rv^ y C^^^tfjK.' 
 
 J/ art Qjix 
 
 PALACE CARS, HEROES 
 AND BLIZZARDS 
 

 lapter 23 
 
 LUXURIOUS TRAVEL 
 
 The railway sleeper of the late fifties was not much better than 
 the makeshifts of the tliirties and forties; just bunks and shelves 
 with narrow mattresses, stuffed, in the opinion of most travelers, 
 with granite rocks ; unaired blankets, unlaundered sheets — if any. 
 Your carpetbag was your pillow. A stern warning was there for all 
 to see: 
 
 Passengers will remove their boots before getting into their berths. 
 
 There were no curtains, no divisions — just no privacy whatso- 
 ever. Then along came George M. Pullman ! 
 
 The reader may remember Pullman as the young man who helped 
 put what is now the Chicago Loop on stilts to halt its slow but sure 
 descent into the lake. With the money he had made jacking up Chi- 
 cago, he determined to build comfortable sleejiing cars for the rail- 
 roads and to put them on the tracks on a sort of royalty basis. The 
 first man approached on the matter was John B. Turner, president 
 of the Galena, who was contacted by Benjamin Field, attorney for 
 Pullman, and the latter's associate, Norman Field. This interview 
 took place on April 6, 1858, and a contract was drawn up between 
 the Galena and George M. Pullman, Norman Field, and Benjamin 
 Field, whereby these three associates were to furnish the Galena 
 with sleeping cars to run between Chicago and Freeport and Du- 
 buque and "between Lake Michigan and the Mississippi River." 
 According to North Western Historian W. H. Stennett, these cars 
 were placed in service as soon as the contract was executed.* But, 
 according to the Pullman Company, the contract was signed and 
 
 * Stennett, \V. H., Yesterday aiid Toclai/ (A History of the C & N W). 
 187 
 
188 PALACE CARS, HEROES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 sealed — but the cars were never delivered.* Later in the year Pull- 
 man, in the shops of the Chicago and Alton Railroad at Blooniing- 
 ton, remodeled a passenger car of that line into a sleeper. This was 
 placed on the rails as the first Pullman car. It would appear, how- 
 ever, that if the North Western — through the Galena — cannot claim 
 the first Pullman, it can claim the first encouragement to the inven- 
 tor through a contract. 
 
 However, there can be no dispute over the fact that Pullman bor- 
 rowed from the Galena wlieii lie actually launched his first "real" 
 Pullman sleeper; this luxurious affair — as of those days — cost 
 $21,178 and was constructed in the shops of the Chicago and Alton; 
 but Pullman named it the Pioneer — already the name of the Galena's 
 first locomotive. Begun in the summer of ISG-i, it was completed in 
 ]March, 1865, and was being readied for a triumphal debut when the 
 news was flashed around the world that Abraham Lincoln had been 
 assassinated by John Wilkes Booth. 
 
 The Pullman Pioneer's first job was not as joyful and triumphant 
 as that of the Galena's Pioneer. The luxury car was given the sad 
 honor of carrying the martyred Emancipator on his last journey 
 from Chicago to Springfield. 
 
 W^ell, anyway, you could get almost anything you needed for a 
 light snack in those days. Pullman hotel cars were put into service 
 by the Chicago and North Western Railway in 1877. No other road 
 ran them west of Chicago, which probably caused a great deal of 
 hardship. They left Chicago at 10 :30 a.m. and arrived in Omaha at 
 10 A.M. the next day. W. H. Stennett, in his early history of the 
 North Western, says that they attracted travelers to the road from 
 all over the world — and indeed they might. 
 
 Herewith is a copy of the standard bih of fare: 
 
 • From the records of the Pullman Company. 
 
LUXURIOUS TRAVEL 
 
 189 
 
 Beverage 
 
 Tea 
 Coffee 
 Chocolate 
 Iced Milk 
 
 Soup 
 
 Beef 
 
 Mock Turtle 
 
 Fish 
 
 White Fish, Broiled 
 Broiled Mackerel 
 Boiled Trout, Cream 
 
 Sauce 
 Fish Balls 
 
 Broiled 
 
 Sirloin Steak 
 Tenderloin Steak 
 Tenderloin Steak with 
 
 Mushrooms 
 Porterhouse Steak 
 Porterhouse Steak 
 
 with Mushrooms 
 Mutton Chops, Plain 
 Mutton Chops, with 
 
 Tomato Sauce 
 Lamb Chops, Plain 
 Lamb Chops, with 
 
 Mint Sauce 
 Venison Steak, with 
 
 Jelly 
 Veal Cutlets, Breaded 
 Ham 
 Breakfast Bacon 
 
 DINNER 
 
 Sweetbreads 
 Sweetbreads with 
 
 French Peas 
 Sweetbreads with 
 
 Mushrooms 
 Spring Chicken, 
 
 Whole 
 Spring Chicken, Half 
 
 Roast 
 
 Sirloin Beef 
 Turkey, Cranberry 
 
 Sauce 
 Saddle & Southdown 
 
 Mutton 
 Lamb 
 
 Chicken, Brown Sauce 
 Loin of Veal, Stuffed 
 
 Boiled 
 
 Leg of Mutton, Caper 
 
 Sauce 
 Ham, Champagne 
 
 Sauce 
 
 Game 
 
 Prairie Chicken 
 Pheasant 
 Snipe on Toast 
 Quail on Toast 
 Golden Plover on 
 
 Toast 
 Blue Winged Teal 
 Woodcock on Toast 
 Broiled Pigeon 
 Mallard Duck 
 
 Pigeon 
 
 Canvas Back Duck 
 
 Cold 
 
 Boiled Ham 
 
 Boiled Tongue 
 
 Chicken 
 
 Pressed Corned Beef 
 
 Roast Beef 
 
 Sardines 
 
 Pork and Beans 
 
 Lobster 
 
 Turkey 
 
 Potted Game 
 
 Pork and Beans, 
 
 Yankee Style 
 Beef Pot Pie, Family 
 
 Style 
 Chicken Croquettes 
 
 Vegetables 
 
 Green Corn 
 Stewed Tomatoes 
 Stewed Potatoes 
 Sweet Potatoes 
 Lima Beans 
 French Peas 
 Stewed Mushrooms 
 Fried Potatoes 
 Asparagus 
 Lyonnaise Potatoes 
 New Beets 
 Onions 
 Cabbage 
 
1!)0 
 
 Oysters 
 (In Season) 
 
 Raw Oysters 
 Stewed Oysters 
 Broiled Oysters 
 Fried Oysters 
 Faney Roast Oysters 
 Spiced Oj'sters 
 Pickled Oysters 
 Raw Clams on Shell 
 Stewed Clams 
 Roast Clams 
 Fried Clams 
 
 Eggs 
 
 Boiled 
 
 Fried 
 
 Poached 
 
 Shirred 
 
 Omelet 
 
 Omelet with Rum 
 
 Omelet with Ham 
 
 Omelet with Parsley 
 
 Scrambled 
 
 palace cars, iikroes, and blizzard! 
 Bread Dessert 
 
 French Bread 
 Boston Brown Bread 
 Hot Biscuit 
 Dry Toast 
 Buttered Toast 
 ^lilk Toast 
 Dipped Toast 
 Albert Biscuit 
 Corn Bread 
 
 Pastry 
 
 Apple Pie 
 Peach Pie 
 Custard Pie 
 Lady Pudding 
 Cocoanut Pie 
 Blackberry Pie 
 Cherry Pie 
 Indian Pudding 
 Rice Pudding 
 Plum Pudding 
 
 Assorted Cake 
 Strawberry Short 
 
 Cake 
 Blackberries & Cream 
 California Grapes 
 Oranges 
 Apples 
 Bananas 
 
 Strawberries & Cream 
 Delaware Grapes 
 Plums 
 
 Assorted Nuts 
 Ice Cream 
 
 Preserved Frtits 
 
 Peaches 
 
 Raspberries 
 
 Cherries 
 
 Plums 
 
 Spiced Peaches 
 
 Currant Jelly 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter 24^ 
 
 '*AH, NOBLE KATE SHELLEY" 
 
 American railroad history has many stories of its heroes. Trains 
 have been saved from head-on collision, from being swept down a 
 mountainside by an avalanche of rock, from plunging through a 
 wrecked bridge. But the North Western has a heroine ; and there has 
 been no greater act of courage than when Kate Shelley saved the 
 Midnight Express. 
 
 Number 15 clattered over the Kate Shelley Bridge and came into 
 Ogden, Iowa, at 12:10 p.m. The conductor, beset by a large, wet 
 man looking for his wife, seemed pained when we asked him why he 
 hadn't stopped at Moingona. He made some answer, most of which 
 was lost in a shriek of wind. He waved a highball to the engineer and 
 swung aboard his train. 
 
 A taxicab driver was more helpful. 
 
 "Moingona," he said. "Sure. I can take you there. It's off the slab 
 on the river just this side of Boone. In weather like this the hill out 
 of Coal Valley's going to be plenty slippery. But I can get you 
 there." So, in one of the worst tempests the region had experienced 
 since the night of July 6, 1881, we set out to see for ourselves the 
 treacherous crossing of the Des Moines River and reconstruct the 
 tragedy of Honey Creek. 
 
 It was a fine day for it. Rain was trailing across the valley in 
 shredded streamers out of a corpse-colored sky. The creeks were 
 high, and wide pools of water stretched out over the black corn- 
 land. That was an incongruous note, you thought — not the water, 
 the black earth. The corn had been fairly high and green that other 
 day — but there had been just as much water, probably more. 
 
 It's about four miles from Ogden to the river over a straight road. 
 191 
 
192 PALACE CAns, iinnoEs, and blizzards 
 
 There seemed to be fairly precipitous hills on citlier side. You could 
 barely see tlieni tlirough the streaming windshield but you could fig- 
 ure out why helper engines liad been needed to haul the North West- 
 ern trains up these grades. It was just the same over on the other 
 side of the river, toward Boone. That's why there had been a loco- 
 motive with steam up at Moingona that night — it was just the usual 
 assignment. 
 
 It didn't take much imagination to picture that engine starting 
 out on the last trip to Honey Creek, one of those little tin teakettles 
 with a pot stack and a hoarse whistle. All you had to do was stare 
 hard enough into the storm you couldn't see through, and the whole 
 thing was right there before your eyes — Ed Wood getting up into 
 the cab; George Olmstead, the fireman, beside him; Adam Agar, the 
 brakeman, and Pat Donohue, section boss, on the running board. 
 It seemed, somehow, that the affair of the Honey Creek bridge was 
 something very imminent and recent. I wondered if the taxi driver 
 felt the same way about it. So I asked him if he remembered any local 
 stories about Kate Shelley. 
 
 "Kate Shelley," he repeated. "Who's she?" 
 
 "Well," I said, "she was a girl who lived on a farm near Honey 
 Creek. . . ." He was patient. 
 
 "If you're goin' to Honey Creek we'd better go around by Boone," 
 he said pontifically. "You don't get to it through Moingona. It's 
 other side of the river — mile and a half or so. But maj'be you got 
 business there.'"' 
 
 "Yes," I said, "I've got to light a lantern 'to keep my spirit 
 warm.' " 
 
 We went the rest of the way in silence, up the slithery hill out of 
 Coal Valley, left on a road that was virtually awash, to the edge 
 of the Des Moines River bluffs. We passed an old and somewhat 
 neglected cemetery, turned left on another mud-covered road, and 
 slid half sidewise down toward a lifeless and sodden village. 
 
 Kate Shellej', the greatest of the railroad heroines, was the daugh- 
 ter of Michael J. Shelley, an Irish immigrant who, for thirteen years 
 before his death in 1878, had been a section hand on the North 
 Western. Mike's widow and five children lived in a mortgaged cottage 
 
"ah, noble KATE SHELLEY" 193 
 
 on a farm plot near the Honey Creek bridge. On the night of July 6, 
 1881, Kate, eldest of the children, was fifteen years old. 
 
 She was a quiet child, bashful before strangers and somewhat 
 dependent on her mother's direction. But she was lai-ge for her age, 
 and strong. 
 
 The tiling about her heroism that seemed most to astonish the 
 world in which she lived was that it had been displayed by a woman, 
 "a mere slip of a girl." Railroads, telegraph, and telephone had 
 brought people probably closer to the realities of life than ever be- 
 fore in the world's history, but the delusion seems to have persisted 
 that females were fragile, helpless beings allergic to thought and 
 incapable of action. True, everybody was still singing songs about 
 Grace Darling who saved a lot of shipwrecked sailors near her 
 father's lighthouse — but, of course, she was a foreigner and somehow 
 different. 
 
 How anybody could have associated frailt}' and inaction with a 
 girl like Kate Shelley is difficult to see. Of all the family she was the 
 only one big enough to look after the little farm. So she did. She 
 hoed and plowed and fed the stock, and did all the odd chores from 
 early morning till late at night. She had the self-assurance that 
 comes of doing a hard job by one's self. She was competent to make 
 a decision and able to carry it out. 
 
 The day of July 6 had been dark and stormy, like many other 
 days during the week before. In the waning light as she went to milk 
 the cows that evening, Kate noticed that Honey Creek was out of its 
 banks. When she came out of the barn she noticed a widening finger 
 of water between the lower edge of the farm and the embankment 
 that carried the rails up to the bridge. 
 
 The 3'ounger Shelley children had their supper about half past 
 six. The world outside was then perfectly dark. The rain was coming 
 down harder and spattering against the north windows in a high 
 wind. After they had eaten and washed and dried the dishes the chil- 
 dren went to bed. Kate and her mother sat watching the clock by 
 candlelight and listening to the noise of the storm. 
 
 About ten o'clock the girl wrapped herself in a coat and started 
 out to see how the livestock were faring. 
 
 "On a night like this anything can happen," she explained. 
 
 "And probably will," observed her mother with a Tyrone woman's 
 
lot PALACE CARS, HEnOES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 gift of prophecy. (Eleven of the twenty-one bridges in the Des 
 Moines valley were washed out that night.) 
 
 Kate found herself walking in water before she had gone a hun- 
 dred feet down the slope from the house. She opened the barn door 
 so the cows could get to higher ground, and rescued some little pigs 
 that had burrowed into a haymow on the edge of the rising tide. 
 The light from her lantern as she bent her head against the tempest 
 on the way back to the house showed no trace whatever of the familiar 
 creek. On three sides of the little knoll on which the house stood was 
 ii boiling lake. 
 
 From the front window, when the lightning flashed, as it did fre- 
 quently, she could see that the band of water between the farm and 
 the embankment had come up several feet. White froth was churning 
 up around the piers of Honey Creek bridge. 
 
 About eleven o'clock, above the steady scream of the wind, the two 
 women caught the low note of an engine whistle. They glanced appre- 
 hensively at one another and went back to the window overlooking 
 the bridge approach. No train was scheduled in either direction at 
 this hour. Both of them knew that. They watched in puzzlement 
 until the rain-pierced beam of a headlight picked out the bridge and 
 they recognized the Moingona "helper" swaying from side to side 
 on a mushy track and headed east. 
 
 They judged correctly that the locomotive had been sent out to 
 test the right of way along the 4-mile stretch to Boone. But they had 
 no time to consider the matter. Ed Wood's engine ran out onto the 
 bridge, then veered crazily, the headlight striking up through the 
 trees on the bluffs ahead. Then it disappeared altogether. The crash 
 of rending wood and an explosive hiss of steam came back out of 
 the storm. 
 
 The noise brought all the family out of bed. But then they all 
 stood about in shocked helplessness. Kate lighted her father's old 
 railroad lantern, wrapped herself in her wet coat, and went back 
 into the storm. 
 
 The water between the Shelley fence and the North Western right 
 of way was now too deep for her to cross. But from the high ground 
 behind the house she was able to cross a ridge to a stretch where 
 the tracks skirted the bluffs. There was no water here. She ran along 
 the roadbed past her own home to the bridge. 
 
"ah, noble KATE SHELLEY" 195 
 
 Part of the structure was still intact, but beyond that two rails 
 dipped down into emptiness. Far below the lightning revealed white 
 water swirling through the wheels of an upside-down locomotive. 
 
 Instinctively she called out to Wood, Olmstead, and Agar — the 
 men she knew must have been aboard the engine. And presently she 
 got a faint response. Wood and Agar had been thrown out of the 
 wreck and were clinging to the branches of a submerged tree. The 
 others were dead. 
 
 The girl knew instantly that there was nothing she could do here. 
 The most remarkable thing about her performance is that she cor- 
 rectly estimated each phase of the situation, knew what ought to be 
 done, and did it without wasting time in tears or hysteria. The so- 
 called Midnight Limited from the west, due to pass through Moin- 
 gona at 11 :27, would be along pretty soon — she did not know how 
 soon, for she had no watch. She would have to get along toward the 
 river where she could flag it down before it went crashing into Honey 
 Creek after Wood and Olmstead and Agar. She turned around and 
 started to run down the track toward the long trestle over the Des 
 Moines. 
 
 With the stinging rain in her face and the lantern mcrel}' a lumi- 
 nous blur at her side, she couldn't see where she was going. At the 
 first curve she tripped over a rail and fell, skinning her knees and 
 hands and cracking the top of her lantern globe. After that she 
 went more slowly but just as blindly. She was almost on the eastern 
 approach to the trestle when she stumbled again. That time the 
 lantern went out. 
 
 The thought of crossing a couple of hundred yards of trestle and 
 a long stretch of swamp-fill in a cloudburst had not occurred to her 
 — not at first. The river was about a mile from Honey Creek bridge 
 and she could have stopped the passenger train with her lantern in 
 plenty of time to keep it from disaster. But now the lantern was 
 broken, the flame had blown out, and she had no way of lighting it. 
 
 Without hesitation she started out across the trestle. 
 
 How she stayed on it in the half-gale that was blowing down- 
 river was the thing that most puzzled trainmen who happened to be 
 abroad that night. She was upright when she came off the approach 
 but not for long. When a sudden swirling blast of wind threw her 
 partly off balance, she dropped to her knees, then flattened herself 
 
196 PALACE CARS, HEROES, AND IlLIZZAltOS 
 
 on her stomach and snaked her way forward literally inch by inch. 
 
 The river, as she could sec whenever the lightning flashed, had risen 
 almost to the level of the tics and was roaring down toward the Mis- 
 sissippi with a seventcen-mile-an-hour current. Piling up against the 
 north side of the trestle was the usual loot of rivers gone berserk — • 
 snags, posts, planks, sticks, and straws and even sizable trees. Where 
 enough of these things collected to form a barrier the water broke 
 over tiicni and over the ties. Half-drowned Kate fought her way 
 through these cataracts clinging to the rails. Spikes and splinters 
 tore her clothes to rags. 
 
 The worst of her ordeal was tliat she speedily lost all conccjjtion 
 of time. For all she knew as she pulled herself forward from one tie 
 to another, the limited might even now be snaking its way down 
 through the western bluffs. It might catch her out here on this bridge 
 and — she said some prayers. She couldn't leave the trestle except 
 to give herself up to the murderous river. It seemed to her that she 
 must still be somewhere in midstream hours away from Moingona 
 when suddenly the lightning showed mud instead of running water 
 between the ties. 
 
 She got to her feet once more and stumbled an interminable quar- 
 ter mile to the Moingona station. The agent didn't recognize her 
 when she reeled in out of the storm. He saw a wet, wild-eyed girl with 
 straggly hair and clothes torn like a scarecrow's, clutching an un- 
 lighted lantern in her rigid hand. 
 
 "My God ! What's this !" he said. 
 
 "Honey Creek bridge is out," reported Kate Shelley in a matter- 
 of-fact tone. "You'd better stop the express. . . ." 
 
 Everybody knows wliat happened then — how the agent ran out 
 with his red lantern and stopped the express — how 300 grateful men 
 and hysterical women spilled out onto the Moingona platform to 
 fling their arms around the embarrassed girl and fight to kiss her 
 cold hands, how they took up a collection for her. Kate presently 
 rode home in the cab of the engine that was taking a rescue party 
 out to Honey Creek. She was up early the next morning to look 
 after liie cows and chickens. But her life was never to be the same 
 again. 
 
"ah, noble KATE SHELLEY" 197 
 
 Reporters, photographers, theatrical agents poured into Moin- 
 gona. They found a little girl, who couldn't understand what all the 
 excitement was about. In forty-eight hours she was the most talked- 
 of person in the United States. 
 
 In Chicago a newspaper took up a collection to pay off tlie mort- 
 gage on the Shelley farm. Frances Willard, the temperance advo- 
 cate, contributed twenty-five dollars toward a fund to provide the 
 girl with a scholarship at Simpson College, Indianola, Iowa. The 
 school children of Dubuque gave licr a medal. The state of Iowa gave 
 her another accompanied by an award of two hundred dollars. She 
 got a gold watch and chain from the Order of Railway Conductors, 
 and a half a barrel of flour, a load of coal, one hundred dollars, and 
 a lifetime pass from the North Western Railway. 
 
 She missed much of the strain of this notoriety because she col- 
 lapsed on the afternoon of July 7, 1881, and was kept in bed for 
 three months. But the turmoil was still going on when she got around 
 again. 
 
 She went to Simpson College for a year but didn't like it. She got 
 a schoolteaching post near Moingona but found that the routine 
 made her nervous. In 1903 the North Western gave her a place as 
 station agent at Moingona, where she stayed until her death in 1912. 
 
 Twice each day she walked from her home near Honey Creek to 
 the railroad station following the same route she followed on the 
 night of July 6, 1881, and stepping the ties on the same bridge. 
 When she died the railroad provided a special train to carry mourn- 
 ers to and from her funeral. In 1926 the old trestle was torn out, and 
 a modem steel structure 184 feet high was built 4> miles upstream 
 to carry the streamliners, red-ball freights, and lesser traffic be- 
 tween Chicago and the Pacific coast. The top officials of the organi- 
 zation were present at the dedication of the new trestle. They called 
 it the Kate Shelley Bridge. 
 
 The memory of Kate Shelley was green enough as the taxicab 
 skidded down the slope into Moingona. The railroad had seen to 
 that, and so had the balladists — never, so the story goes, were so 
 many songs written in such great praise of a living American 
 heroine. 
 
198 PALACE CARS, HEROES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 TIktc was of course Eugene J. Hall's striking lyric, still to be 
 found in the elocution books: 
 
 Ah, noble Kate Shelley, your mission is done; 
 
 Your deed that dark night will not fade from our gaze. 
 
 And endless renown you have worthily won; 
 
 Let the nation be just and accord you its praise 
 
 Let your name, let your fame and your courage declare 
 
 What a woman can do and a woman can dare. 
 
 You wonder, as the wind shifts a bit and you can see the river 
 riding down through the mud flats, if the local enthusiasts are still 
 singing the carol of the Reverend Francis Schreiber of Havana, 
 
 Up to the station, her steps she bent 
 To state the doleful incident; 
 And when she'd done and knew no more. 
 She swooned and reeled and hit the floor. 
 
 Conjecture was interrupted by the voice of the taxi driver. 
 
 "This is Moingona, brother," he said. "Where to now.'"' 
 
 We stopped in front of a garage where a young man was trying 
 to open a drain. I asked him the way to Honey Creek. 
 
 "Gotta go around now," he said. "They took the trestle out." 
 
 "\\Ticre's the railroad station?" I went on. 
 
 "Right here," he said. "This is it. Or it was." 
 
 "And whcre's the railroad?" 
 
 "I couldn't rightly say. Over the hill someplace." 
 
 "But where do the trains stop here?" He looked at me queerly. 
 
 "They don't," he said. "There ain't any." And then I realized what 
 the conductor on Number 15 had been trying to tell me about 
 Moingona. 
 
 So we started back through the mud and wet to Ogden. ]\Ioingona, 
 the shrine of an authentic heroine, had faded out in a veil of rain 
 before we were halfway up the hill. 
 
 "What was that you were saying about lighting a lantern?" in- 
 quired the taxi driver. 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter 25 
 
 THE GREAT BLIZZARD 
 
 It's been a long time, now, since blizzards have been able to tie up 
 the railroads on the western prairies for longer than a few hours at 
 a time. Only a few of the oldest inhabitants of such towns as Water- 
 town and Huron, South Dakota, can recall the last time a man was 
 frozen to death between his woodshed and his kitchen door. No one 
 is over-worried if the children are a few minutes late getting home 
 from school at Geneva or Cordova, Nebraska. Hardly anj-body in 
 recent years has gone 20 miles out of his way on the 10-mile stretch 
 of straight road between Atlantic and Lewis, Iowa. And yet such 
 things happened regularly and almost unexplainably within the 
 memory of living men and women. 
 
 The Blizzard Club of Lincoln, Nebraska, has recently published 
 a book setting forth the personal experiences of hundreds of people 
 who survived the freak snowstorm that on January 12, 1888, swept 
 down from Canada across the Dakotas, Nebraska, Kansas, Minne- 
 sota, Iowa, Missouri, and parts of Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, 
 and Oklahoma. The volume is a stirring record of a little-known 
 tragedy, but even nature doesn't seem to repeat herself any more, 
 and no latter-da}' resident of the Middle AVcst can possibly imagine 
 such a storm. 
 
 Alex Johnson, who looked on these things first through the eyes 
 of a homesteader and then as a railroad official, records what he saw 
 in a detailed journal and comments that the physical world must be 
 changing. On the surface there appears to be plenty of evidence to 
 support his theory. 
 
 The hardship of life in the prairie states during the first few years 
 after the North Western came up to the Missouri River is barely 
 
 199 
 
200 PALACE CAHS, HEROES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 credible. Johnson's record shows that he was continually getting lost 
 not only on journeys of fifteen or twenty miles along a dim trail 
 but in trying to get from his claim to town, three or four miles away. 
 To travel the prairie on a starless night was alwaj's a perilous ad- 
 venture. To travel the prairie on a starless night in winter was little 
 short of suicide. 
 
 One night, aecompaiiied by a cousin, he set out from Rcdfield, 
 South Dakota, with a wagonload of household goods headed for 
 Doland, 25 miles away. He writes : 
 
 A snowstorm caught us after wc left Rcdfield. The ground became 
 covered and we lost the trail. It was soon dark. We went on and after 
 whUe got to the Jim River. 
 
 There had been continuous spring rains before the snow, and the water 
 was very high. We could hear it running and the roar was frightening. 
 Not knowing whether it was safe or not, we were afraid to drive the 
 horses into it. 
 
 It was decided that we would unhitch the team and I would ride one 
 of the horses across as a test. I couldn't see anything when I started, but 
 as a matter of fact we were at the edge of a high bank and on a bend in 
 the river where the water was very deep. 
 
 The horse went under at the first plunge, then became frantic and 
 started to swim. I hung on. He reached the high bank on the other side 
 of the river and it was impossible to make a landing. He turned suddenly 
 and I fell in the river. I tried to grab the harness and he kicked me pain- 
 fully in the leg. I drifted downstream to a ford in shallow water and 
 walked ashore. 
 
 In time we got the horses together and crossed. We got lost again. I 
 had to walk in my wet clothes to keep from freezing. We arrived in Frank- 
 fort at 5 A.M. We had traveled all night. 
 
 In the open saloon that served the public of Frankfort a card game 
 was going on — even at that hour. We came in and the men at the table 
 saw my condition and stopped the game. One was particularly kind to 
 me. He gave me his bed and next morning fitted me out with a suit of 
 dry clothes. . . . He was just about my size. He left the state afterward 
 for cause. But he did me a service I have never forgotten. 
 
 We reached the homestead eventually and I slept most of two days. 
 
 That was the worst of his journeys between towns. But there were 
 others almost ns bad. If the snow fell, one got lost. Tiien to stay alive 
 
THE GREAT BLIZZARD 201 
 
 he had to wander all night and get his bearings by daylight. Fortu- 
 nately the terrain was such that he seldom got more than eight or 
 ten miles out of his way. 
 
 Johnson, who got a job at the grain elevator in Doland, picked 
 up telegraphy practicing with D. A. Paulson, the North Western 
 station agent, and eventually was himself appointed station agent at 
 Raymond. He went up to the county seat at Old Ashton that year 
 to prove up on his claim. He wrote in his diary : 
 
 Got lost coming back. In the morning I found out that I had passed 
 close to my home several times. 
 
 He moved into town. On another date he wrote : 
 
 We were snowbound many times that winter. 
 
 Two young men named Cochrane and Parrott had opened a store. In 
 the dead of the winter Mrs. Cochrane, Parrott's sister, died in childbirth 
 — there were no doctors in the town. 
 
 On that day, with the bright sun shining, the thermometer 30 degrees 
 below zero, four feet of snow on the level and no trains operating, the 
 sad news soon passed to the dozen men and fewer women in town. We got 
 together to see what could be done. 
 
 Mrs. Cochrane, before her marriage, had filed on a claim a mile from 
 the village and it was decided to bury her there. Three of us walked 
 over the frozen snow to dig the grave. 
 
 The ground was frozen, and when it turned dark we came back with 
 the work half finished. Others had begun to build a casket. 
 
 The next day I was assigned to the grave work again. We took another 
 man with us, but even so we couldn't finish the work projseidy before 
 dark came again. 
 
 On our return we found it necessary to dig some sort of roadway to 
 the grave. We studied the matter and decided it would be best to dig 
 down about halfway to the ground and in some fashion pack the rest of 
 the snow down. The next morning we had a partly completed roadway 
 and with the aid of section men from the railroad it was completed late 
 in the day. 
 
 We had to put the coffin on holding timbers because the road was too 
 narrow for it with men ranged alongside. That night, with Walter Wilson, 
 a hardware man, I was a watcher. Next to Cochrane and Parrott's store 
 was a saloon, open all night. Wilson and I would take turns going to this 
 place to get warm and then resume our watch. The next morning the 
 
202 PALACE CARS, HEROES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 thermometer registered tliirty-five below at the time wlien a dozen friends 
 made tlicir way througli tlic tunnel trail to the grave. . . , 
 
 And there seemed to be no end to such li.-irdsliij) and .suffering as 
 tliis. A later entry in his journal reads: 
 
 Till' cycle of drouth years from 1886 to 1892 caused many who could 
 do so to leave the state, and on the roads covered wagons filled with fam- 
 ilies and household goods were many. Those who remained found priva- 
 tion, discouragement and in many eases acute suffering. 
 
 Twisted prairie hay was used in this country for fuel. At first it was 
 burned in ordinary cook stoves. Later a sheet-iron stove was designed for 
 hay fuel and was quite generally used. I recall that a man in De Smet 
 made one of these hay burners that sold for $2.50. It required time and 
 work to keep from freezing. 
 
 The following spring after the big exodus it was found that those who 
 remained had disposed of their seed. ... It was all a one year crop then 
 — all spring wheat. Counties like Brown brought seed in the market and 
 loaned to farmers on chattel mortgages. . . . 
 
 The rain makers were active in the district that year. The town 
 of Doland built high platforms to aid these magicians, Johnson 
 noted. But the rain, wiicthcr produced by them, or gratuitous, came 
 too late to save the crop. 
 
 In 1886 Johnson moved to Watcrtown as traveling auditor for 
 both the North Western Railway and the Van Deusen grain com- 
 pany. He was in Rcdfield making a routine examination of the sta- 
 tion agent's accounts on the morning of January 12, 1888. 
 
 In the states of Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Iowa, Minne- 
 sota and Nebraska, this was a memorable day. 
 
 It had been a winter of deep snow and rail traffic wasn't dense at any 
 time. But there had been repeated rail blocks and the snow had drifted 
 to unusual depths in the small towns and along the countrj^side. Rail 
 traffic was so much delayed that for long periods it was in a virtual state 
 of blockage. Mail was delayed for many days and in some localities for 
 weeks. 
 
 The railroads at that time were not provided with rotary snowplows. 
 
 I was in a rail-snow block that day at Clark, thirty-one miles west of 
 Watertown and had been there two and a half days previously. The wires 
 were down and it was about fifteen degrees below zero during the day. 
 Before communication broke I had sent a message to my wife and chil- 
 
THE GREAT BLIZZARD 203 
 
 dren in Watertown that I was all right and had received an answer that 
 all was well at home. 
 
 At Clark there was a passenger train and a snowplow engine, and an 
 engine with two cabooses and a box car. This outfit was the usual one 
 where snow drifts made going difficult for trains. The last train with 
 engine, cabooses and box car was usually called a "dragout." And in addi- 
 tion to a regular crew it would carry an accumulation of section men 
 from several adjoining sections, sometimes in charge of a roadmaster. 
 
 The snowplow would make a run for a drift — always to be found in 
 cuts with high banks on either side of the rails. The engine would back 
 up from 100 to 1,000 feet in order to attack the drift at full speed. If 
 it did not succeed in getting through, it generally became wedged. Then 
 the dragout would move in to pull it out. 
 
 The section men would shovel the snow out and over the banks, and the 
 snowplow would make another run for it. This might go on for days be- 
 fore the cuts were opened. On January 12, 1888, the work had been go- 
 ing on for more than four days. A general tie-up was ordered. 
 
 The banks were piled up high on either side of the track by repeated 
 attacks of snowplow and shovel. Frequently after the cuts had been 
 opened a night's snow and wind would fill them up again. In places along 
 the road to Watertown the drifts were higher than the telegraph poles. 
 
 The dragout train usually carried food for the crews. The passenger 
 train was less well equipped. Frequently they were stalled between sta- 
 tions with no supplies at all. The passengers would have to sleep in their 
 seats and often the engine fires would be killed to provide fuel for stoves 
 in the coaches. Many times passengers would strike out into the country 
 to settlers' homes looking for food and warmth. 
 
 Snow fences were erected at short distances from the cuts to divert 
 the drifts around the end so that they would cross the track and be dis- 
 tributed in the open prairie. But the snow, after two or three days of 
 drifting, would generally pile up over the snow fence. Such days came 
 frequently every winter, and looking back on them they seem to have 
 been unendurable. Yet they were accepted as part of the price for the 
 settlement of the prairie. 
 
 Newcomers to the West sometimes wonder if weather conditions have 
 changed. ... It is an arguable point. In the early days the snowplows 
 were small and inadequate and heavy snows were expected every winter. 
 Then came the rotary snowplow. It was most effective, getting the work 
 done quicker and better than had been possible with the three train 
 arrangement and forty -man shoveling teams. But it was seldom required. 
 Some winters there was not a single call for it and for many winters it 
 
204 PALACE CARS, HEROES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 was of little use. ... A strange situation and I'd like somebody to offer 
 an explanation for it. 
 
 We were snowbound at Clark on January 12. . . . The day was bright 
 and warm and we ex))eeted to got through with little or no delay until 
 the word came through to stoj) all efforts to open tlie road until further 
 orders. 
 
 At 3 P.M. I left the station to go to the hotel — a distance of not more 
 than three blocks. For the first two blocks the sun was shining and there 
 was no change in the weather. ]5ut in two minutes a mist came with the 
 wind and in two more the sun was gone, the wind was whirling, and, as 
 I crossed the street and approached the hotel, I could barely see the out- 
 line of the building. 
 
 When I entered the hotel a number of people were about, most of them 
 traveling salesmen. They were visiting and playing cards, oblivious of 
 the storm that had begun to rage outside. They asked me about the train. 
 I told tliem the news and went to the window. I saw a sight that I had 
 never seen before nor will ever see again, and one that I certainly wOl 
 never forget. 
 
 The snow, in fine flakes, was whirling in every direction and getting 
 denser and denser. Nothing was visible except this spinning cloud. In 
 just a few minutes the street outside the window was entirely dark. 
 
 Some of the company stayed up all night. Many of us, knowing that 
 we could not get away in the morning, retired. There was little sleep. The 
 blizzard had a roaring sound — not the sound of a wind-storm but a howl 
 unlike anything any of us had ever heard before. 
 
 The next morning it was the same — indescribable. And while everyone 
 was apprehensive none of us could know of the terrible conditions in 
 the night when 112 men, women and children had lost their lives and 
 scores had suffered crippling injuries. 
 
 The effects of the storm were not realized until days afterward. Many 
 people remained on the lists of missing until two months later when the 
 snow melted and their bodies were found. 
 
 Many of those who died were found near home or some shelter that 
 they had been unable to locate. Many had fallen in an attitude of reach- 
 ing. Some had been frozen in a standing position, propped against trees 
 or fences. Obviously they had been wandering in circles until death over- 
 took them. 
 
 In the central and eastern part of the state the storm came during that 
 part of the day when the children were in school — and many teachers be- 
 came heroines of a high order. They told stories to the children, led them 
 in singing, played games with them and kept the fires going. 
 
THE GREAT BLIZZARD 205 
 
 Scarves were tied together to make a rope one end of which was held 
 by all the pupils in the schoolroom while the teacher, holding the other 
 end, went out into the storm to get snow for water. Fuel was conserved. 
 And while in a few instances youngsters wandered away and got lost, 
 most of those who were still at their desks at three o'clock that after- 
 noon were safely cared for until the blizzard passed. 
 
 Parents were not so fortunate. INIany of them made attempts to locate 
 the schoolhouses and missed. Some were saved by friends or the off 
 chance that led them to run into a fence or a building. Many turned their 
 wagons upside down and took shelter under the boxes. Some were saved. 
 Others were smothered as the drifts piled high above the wagons. 
 
 The suffering of families during the remainder of the winter or until 
 the snow had gone, was horrible. 
 
 Cattle caught in the storm wandered farther than humans. Stock losses 
 were terrific. Such animals as were found generally could not be identi- 
 fied and financial embarrassment and an exodus of population followed 
 loss of life and ghastly suffering. 
 
 There were clear skies and crisp calm air on January 15. Rail 
 traffic was still tied up indefinitely. Food supplies were diminishing, 
 and the traveling salesmen marooned in the hotel began to get restive. 
 A large man, representing a Sioux City shoe dealer presided over a 
 meeting in the dining-room to decide on a program of mutual assist- 
 ance. Fourteen men, including A. C. Johnson, decided to walk the 
 31 miles to Watertown. 
 
 The chairman tried to exclude one William Cole from the walking 
 tour because he was too old (fifty-five). Cole said that he would go 
 in company or he would go by himself. So the fourteen started 
 bravely out over the.drifts. En route the voyagers dropped off one 
 after another, at settlers' homes or snowbound villages. 
 
 Only Cole and Johnson got through. 
 
 The 1888 blizzard is remembered by most survivors of early 
 days on the prairies to the exclusion of all others. That is probably 
 because in a few hours it caused greater loss of life and impoverished 
 more people than the rest of the West's recorded storms put to- 
 gether. But as a phenomenon of a roaring wind mixed with snow it 
 was by no means unusual. Every year brought its blizzards to the 
 great plains, and had it not been for the disastrous results of the 
 
PALACE CARS, HEnOES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 one in 1888, the storm of 1880-1881 iniglit reasonably have been 
 recorded as the worst in history. 
 
 Dr. Stennett, mentioning it in Yesterday and Today, tells a story 
 that might seem fantastic if one did not know that he had access to 
 reports of construction in the ^lissouri Valley. 
 
 The Dakota F'xtcnsion to the Missouri River at Pierre was finished in 
 the early fall of 1880, and it was the intention of the management to he 
 at Pierre on the day when the first through traffic train reached there 
 from the east. The last bridge over the Yellow Medicine River was to 
 be finished and the last rail laid October 16. 
 
 In the night of October 15 it began to snow, and that storm scarcely 
 ceased until May 5, 1881. 
 
 Such a storm was nearly or quite unprecedented in the Northwest. 
 Thousands of settlers had in the summer and fall of 1880 flocked to Min- 
 nesota and Dakota and settled along the lines of this road ; and every 
 one of them was dependent on the trains of this company for fuel and 
 food and light, as all were pioneers, and had no accumulated stores to 
 draw from. Hence it seemed incumbent on the company to open its lines 
 and to keep them open. Its snowplows wers kept going daj- and night 
 and thousands of men were hired to shovel snow. 
 
 I^iterally hundreds of thousands of dollars were spent in shoveling 
 snow in these six months ; and when spring came there was nothing to be 
 seen as a return for it. The road that was cleared in the day would be 
 covered again in the night, and where it was cleared at night the next 
 day was sure to overwhelm it again; and so the fight teas kept up day 
 and night for practically six months. Though many had to live on wheat 
 or corn ground in coffee mills, none was allowed to starve. And when 
 May came all were ready for the work that should have been begun in 
 February or March. 
 
 It is said, and probably truly, that over fourteen feet of snow fell that 
 winter on a level in Central Minnesota and what is now South Dakota. 
 ... In many places the cuts made b_v the snowplows and shovelers were 
 twenty to forty feet deep, so that there had to be six or seven ranks of 
 shovelers, one above the other, on the slope of the bank to move the snow 
 above the track and far enough back to keep it from rolling into the cut 
 as fast as it was shoveled out. 
 
 In March, 1881, one snowstorm brought a full four feet on a level of 
 snow. The last snowstorm and blockade did not occur until May 5, 1881. 
 
 During that period eastern South Dakota was virtually isolated. 
 Mitchell, in the James Valley, was completely cut off from the rest 
 
THE GREAT BLIZZARD 207 
 
 of the world and didn't see a railroad train for almost sixteen weeks. 
 
 As Alex Johnson observed in his diary, we don't see such' winters 
 any more. We might almost convince ourselves that the climate of 
 the Middle West is changing if it weren't for reminders of our own 
 little snow-shoveling problems. The latest came with the story of 
 T. N. Meyers of Alliance, Nebraska, who remembered about twenty- 
 eight years late that he had been in a Class-A blizzard at Chadron, 
 Nebraska, in April, 1920. 
 
 Meyers, one learns, was running a race with the stork from In- 
 terior, South Dakota, to his home in Alliance when the train buried 
 itself in an old-fashioned snowdrift at Chadron and stopped. A 
 section foreman came around offering to pay sixty cents an hour to 
 anybody who would help excavate the train, and Meyers, anxious to 
 get home, volunteered. 
 
 It took eight hours to clear the cut and get the train on its way, 
 but Mej'ers arrived home in time to welcome a baby daughter on 
 April 22. Not until the same daughter's birthday this year did it 
 occur to him that he had failed to pick up his pay. He thought it 
 might be interesting to find out if the North Western Railway could 
 remember blizzai-ds and snow-shovelers so long a time. He wrote a 
 letter to the Chadron office, which referred it to Chicago, where the 
 auditing department found that his check had been waiting for him 
 twenty-eight years. It was for $4.80. 
 
 He was delighted. By this time, he says, the drift probably would 
 have melted anyway. 
 
Cl 
 
 lapler 26 
 
 CASEY AT THE THROTTLE 
 
 Along in the nineties the heroic figure of tliis country was no war- 
 rior or man of violence. He was a paladin of peace — the man at the 
 throttle, the brave engineer. And in the eyes of youth he rated just 
 above the driver of the three white horses on the fire engine as the 
 most glamorous exhibit that modem civilization had produced. 
 
 Little boys gazed at him slack-jawed as he leaned from the cab 
 of his panting locomotive at way stations. Station agents, mayors, 
 and other potentates greeted him with deference and obvious high 
 regard. Any bit of information about him and his mysterious life was 
 a matter of intense public interest. It always merited first-page posi- 
 tion in the newspapers and never failed in its dramatic effect merely 
 because many of its details were familiar, not to say standardized. 
 Here is "the brave engineer," alert, nerveless, godlike in his calm. 
 His "steady hand" is "on the throttle," his keen, unwavering eyes 
 are "fixed on twin ribbons of steel" ahead of him as he "plunges on- 
 ward into the night." "The screaming wind" from out of the gloom 
 is "a wild song of daring in his ears" as he "spurs his iron horse to 
 greater bursts of speed." When suddenly "in the ghastly glare of 
 the headlight" he is aware of a looming, horrible, deadly menace — 
 
 At this point the motivation might vary — a bridge out, a broken 
 rail, an obstruction on the track, an oncoming locomotive driven by 
 another engineer just as alert, nerveless, and calm. But the climax 
 was predictable. Whatever the other details of the crash, the engi- 
 neer would be there at his post when it happened — his hand still on 
 the throttle at the finish. 
 
 Laymen, in those days, looked upon engineers as one of the finest 
 developments of American society, and envied tlicir exalted status 
 in public esteem, their freedom from the petty cares and concerns of 
 
 208 
 
CASEY AT THE THROTTLE 209 
 
 ordinary men. Railroaders admitted that maybe they might be 
 classed as a species of aristocracy a bit more elevated than the other 
 aristocrats in a very upper-class business. The brave engineers, 
 themselves, weren't so sure. 
 
 One may consider the episode of John Casey,* a brave engineer, 
 who ran a locomotive between Eyota and Chatfield, Minnesota, a 
 spur on the Chicago and North Western Railway about ten miles 
 long. There was never verj' much doing on this line — no Indians, 
 burning bridges, hurricanes, washouts, or train robberies. Certainly 
 there were never any runaway trains roaring toward one on the same 
 track. For John's train, which consisted of a locomotive, two box- 
 cars, and a caboose, was the only one on this bit of track. That it 
 was called Number 108 southbound and Number 109 northbound 
 did not alter this basic fact. 
 
 John's duties weren't very exhausting. Twice each day he would 
 haul his train from Eyota to Chatfield, pick up what shipments hap- 
 pened to be waiting, and come back again. On his first round trip he 
 was supjjosed to leave Eyota at 8:00 a.m. and Chatfield at 11:00 
 A.M. And he had no trouble maintaining this schedule until one day 
 when he had to delay the morning stai't for the transfer of an un- 
 usual amount of farm equipment. It was after 11 a.m. when he finally 
 got under way and he reached Planks's station with southbound train 
 Number 108 just about the time he was normally due there with 
 northbound train 109. 
 
 Inasmuch as he had no fear of bumping into himself on a bright 
 day with a clear track, he waved at the Planks's station agent cheer- 
 ily and rattled along toward Chatfield which he reached in good 
 order along about 11:40. 
 
 There was some more delay as the freight was unloaded, but John 
 got under way about his usual afternoon returning time and was in 
 Eyota in time for supper. He thought no more about the episode 
 until an inspector came to visit him about a week later. 
 
 "It's about Number 109, on July fifteenth," the inspector told 
 him. "They want to know what you did with it." 
 
 "I didn't do anything with it," said John. "I suppose it was can- 
 celed." His visitor shook his head sadly. 
 
 * Uncle of author Robert J. Casey. 
 
210 PALACE CAKS, UK HOES, AND ULIZZAKDS 
 
 "It wasn't canceled," he answered. "It must liave just disap- 
 peared. And I think maybe you'll be hearing about it." 
 
 So, two days later, John tjol down from his cab in Eyot.i af the 
 end of the afternoon run and received an order to report at once to 
 headquarters in St. Paul. The next day he was on the carpet be- 
 fore a grim-faced superintendent. 
 
 "As engineer of Number 108 out of Isyota on July fifteenth," 
 stated this critic after reading from some notes, "you should have 
 gone onto the siding at Planks to permit the passage of Number 109 
 out of Chatfield. Instead of that, without waiting even to ask for 
 instructions, you proceeded the rest of the way on Number 109's 
 time. Such conduct is indefensible and inexcusable." 
 
 "But," gasped John, "there wasn't any Number 10!). There 
 couldn't be until I got to Chatfield and turned Number 108 around. 
 I was running the only locomotive on that track." 
 
 The superintendent listened to the explanation unmoved. 
 
 "You have taken too much for granted," he said. "The rule on 
 this point is plain. You had no right to proceed against the time 
 of a train tliat theoretically had already left Chatfield." 
 
 "But there was no other train." 
 
 "You had no way to determine that. For all you knew to the con- 
 trary, we might have hauled a locomotive and a couple of cars over- 
 land on wagons from La Crosse." 
 
 John studied him in some surprise. 
 
 "Yes," he said finally, "you might have done just that. It's what 
 they call operating logic. So now you can have your tin teapot and 
 my overalls. I'm going out West and raise sheep." 
 
 So he did go out West and he did raise sheep, with some success. 
 But his name, from that time to this, was never mentioned by the 
 lads who compiled the stories of the brave new engineers. 
 
 In the history of nearly ever}' railroad is the poignant record of 
 the relationship that sprang up between an engineer and some for- 
 lorn child who stood each day at a desolate crossroads to wave a 
 friendly hand. Some of these are the most beautiful stories in an 
 amazing folklore. But every gold medal has its reverse. 
 
 Plenty of people arc still alive who remember the erratic per- 
 
CASEY AT THE THROTTLE 211 
 
 formance of the Slim Princess, the North Western narrow-gauge 
 train that once ran between Deadwood and Lead. 
 
 The course, if it could be measured horizontally, was about two 
 and a half miles long. The vertical distance was about a thousand 
 feet, much of which was covered over a series of shelves pasted 
 against the mountainside. As one straightened out at the summit, 
 however, the track ran briefly along a gentler slope. And in this 
 stretch, every few trips, the train would come to a sudden halt while 
 the engineer tooted his whistle and roared imprecations at some- 
 thing hidden in the brushwood. 
 
 There wasn't anything mysterious about this rite — not unless you 
 happened to be a very recent arrival in the Hills. The engineer's 
 explanation had been recorded in print the first time the startled 
 passengers asked him about it. 
 
 "That little kid comes down here and monkeys around the track," 
 he said. "I'm scaring hell out of him." 
 
 Almost of a piece with this is the story of Earl Gilette who had a 
 run on the Omaha line with a terminus at Park Falls, Wisconsin. 
 There is a rumor, which now, unfortunately, cannot be disproved, 
 that in ten years of service on this route Gilette was never better 
 than an hour late at his destination until the momentous Decora- 
 tion Day when he came roaring past the town of Radisson a good 
 twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Midway to the next town he slid 
 to a grinding stop alongside somebody's farm, leaped from his cab, 
 and dashed up an embankment. When the startled conductor caught 
 up with him a few minutes later he was sitting on a stump, spank- 
 ing a small boy. 
 
 "He's been throwing things at me," explained Gilette. "He's been 
 needing this spanking for nearly a year, but this is the first chance 
 I had to give it to him without wasting the passengers' time." 
 
 It wasn't only at the far ends of the rail that the brave engineers 
 displayed their occupational whimsy. An engineer seems always to 
 have been an engineer, even inside the city limits. And for that we 
 have the testimony of Caroline Goldacker of Chicago. 
 
 Some time before the turn of the century. Miss Goldacker's family 
 lived on Belmont Avenue across from the suburban stop then known 
 as Gross Park station. Belmont Avenue is now a business artery 
 with factories pressing close to the North Western tracks. But in 
 
212 PAL AC K CARS, HEHOES, AND BLIZZARDS 
 
 those days it was a dusty, quiut, almost empty trail throuf^h a (juiet 
 community of homes. 
 
 Living there, Miss Goldacker remembers, was much like living in 
 the country, and like other people beyond the edge of urban excite- 
 ment, her family developed a keen interest in passing trains. In time 
 they came to know as much about the schedule — freight and pas- 
 senger — as the dispatcher downtown. The morning milk train was 
 a more reliable awakener than an alarm clock. There was a Wau- 
 kcgan-bound passenger train that signaled their bedtime at 10:00 
 P.M. And only on occasion were they awake to hear the "theater 
 special" which was due to pass Gross Park, without stopping, at 
 11:30, 
 
 Back and forth shuttled the trains as regularly as the clock 
 ticked, always interesting to the Goldackers but never what you 
 might call intimately associated with their lives until a brave engi- 
 neer found a job to do in 1898. 
 
 That evening the familj' had retired as usual at 10:00 p.m. All 
 of them were asleep before eleven and none stirred when the tracks 
 began to rumble with the approach of the "theater special" from 
 Deering. So presently they leaped from their beds in a state of shock 
 into a world filled with the clanging of a locomotive bell and the 
 rapid tooting of a whistle. 
 
 "It's the theater train," observed Miss Goldacker in surprise. 
 "It's stopped and it isn't supposed to stop here." 
 
 She leaned from her window and found herself looking into the 
 face of the brave engineer gazing up at her through a weird, flicker- 
 ing light. 
 
 "Your house is afire," he yelled at her. "Get everybody out." 
 
 So evervbody got out. The whistle stopped blowing. The train 
 proceeded on its way north. The house burned down. 
 

 ^art ofe 
 
 ei^en 
 
 THE LAST LAP 
 
C/u 
 
 lapter 27 
 
 ENTRANCE TO THE NEW CENTURY 
 
 When Marvin Hughitt took over tlie presidency, the Chicago and 
 North Western's trackage as of May 31, 1887, was 4,037.23 miles; 
 its gross earnings were $26,321,315.15; its net income $6,056,- 
 775.77. When he resigned that office on October 20, 1910, tlie road 
 operated 7,629.45 miles of tracks; its gross earnings were $74,175,- 
 684.69; its net income .$22,022,005.48. The line had progressed far 
 from "the farmer's railroad" which William Butler Ogden had vi- 
 sioned in the activation of the old Galena. Then its genesis had 
 been a one-lmndred-thousand-dollar corporation ; authorized capital 
 stock on the day Marvin Hughitt stepped down was $200,000,000. 
 It should be of interest to those who appreciate railroad history 
 to glance over the roster of directors and general officers of the 
 North Western as of August 1, 1887 — the day Hughitt actually 
 took over the presidency. Even after a lapse of sixty-one years, 
 names legendary' in the big business of their day can be recognized — 
 a far call from the farmers, country lawyers, and Chicago pioneers 
 who had made up Ogden's first Board of Directors. The road had 
 become, thus early, a national institution. 
 
 Directors 
 
 Albert Keep Chicago Chauncey M. Depew New York 
 
 Marvin Hughitl Chicago Samuel F. Barger New York 
 
 N. K. Fairbank Chicago H. McK. Twombly New York 
 
 Horace Williams Clinton, Iowa W. K. A'aiiderbilt New York 
 
 David P. Kimball Boston F. W. Vanderbilt New York 
 
 William L. Scott Erie D. O. Mills New York 
 
 A. G. Dulman New York ]M. L. Sykes New York 
 
 John M. Burke New York Percj' R. Pyne New York 
 
 John I. Blair Blairstown, New Jersey 
 
 215 
 
216 the last i, a i' 
 
 Executive Committee 
 
 All)crl Keep, chairniaii of tlie Board 
 Marvin Hiigliill William L. Scott 
 
 C M. Depow A. G. Dulman 
 
 Samuel F. IJarger H. MoK. Twomhly 
 
 David P. Kimball 
 
 General Officers 
 
 IMarvin Ilugliitt President 
 
 * M. L. Sykes Vice-president, treasurer, and secretary 
 
 * S. O. Howe Assistant treasurer and assistant secretary 
 
 M. M. Kirkman Comptroller 
 
 J. B. Redfiekl Auditor, assistant secretary, and assistant treasurer 
 
 W. H. Stennett Auditor of expenditures 
 
 John M. AVhitnian General manager 
 
 Sherburne Sanborn General superintendent 
 
 Horace G. Burt Chief engineer 
 
 William C. Goudy General counsel 
 
 William B. Keep General attorney 
 
 H. C. Wicker Traffic manager 
 
 II. R. McCullough General freight agent 
 
 W. A. Thrall General ticket agent 
 
 Edward P. Wilson General passenger agent 
 
 R. W. Hamer Purchasing agent 
 
 Charles E. Simmons Land commissioner 
 
 Frank P. Crandon Tax commissioner 
 
 George W. Tilton Superintentient of motive power and machinery 
 
 * Located in New York; all olliers were in Chicago. 
 
 The Middle West and Northwest of President Hughitt's carlv 
 days had no money. The frontier was always in debt — a gambler's 
 risk in the short spells of prosperity in between panics and depres- 
 sions. Hughitt, at the start, had to depend on his intestinal fortitude 
 as a pioneer — which he certainly was in the industrial sense if not 
 in the trapper, hunter, and ground-breaker sense — and he had to 
 depend also on the gambling instincts of the big bugs of the eastern 
 and foreign money marts. So, in the second phase of middle western 
 and northw-cstcrn development j'ou see Chauncey Depew, two Van- 
 dcrbilts, a Twombly, and a INIills seated on the Board of Directors 
 of the North Western. Jay Gould tried long and hard to get on that 
 board and managed to serve one term; had he succeeded in digging 
 
ENTRANCE TO THE NEW CENTURY 217 
 
 in, he might have contrived to bleed the North Western as white as 
 he bled so many other roads. But the line had a bulldog of a watch- 
 man for president. A rarity among the great railroads of the 
 eighties, the nineties, and the turn of the century, Hughitt's road 
 was untouched by the scandals of stock-jobbing, stock- ribbing, treas- 
 ury bleeding. Possibly there may have been attempts along these 
 lines — but they got nowhere. 
 
 His task was to construct or otherwise to bring together an iron- 
 clad sj'stem radiating out of Chicago, tapping a new and growing 
 spread of producing and consuming country the future vastness of 
 which, in terms of people and cities, forest and farms, lumber, iron, 
 gold, lead, and manufactured products, was realized by compara- 
 tively few men of his day. When he stepped down from the presi- 
 dency of the North Western he could truthfully have said — though 
 he probably never said it — that he had taken a major part in the 
 social, economic, and industrial development of his country. He had 
 practically doubled the trackage of his railroad ; he had more than 
 trebled its net income. He must have been very tired, but he must 
 also have been very, verj' pleased. 
 
 Hughitt's first report to the stockholders of the Chicago and 
 North Western was that ending the fiscal year of 1888. (Elected 
 president in June, he signed the 1887 report in August because of 
 the illness of Keep, the retiring president.) He showed a total of 
 4,210.75 miles composed as follows: 
 
 Chicago and North Western 2,521 .51 
 
 Winona and St. Peter 448.48 
 
 Dakota Central 723.93 
 
 Toledo and North Western 385 . 19 
 
 Northern Illinois 75.78 
 
 Princeton and Western 16.06 
 
 Sycamore, Courtland and Chicago 4 .64 
 
 Iron River 35 . 16 
 
 Total mileage 4,210.75 
 
 Hughitt also reported on the leased Trans-Missouri River lines — 
 the Sioux City and Pacific, the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Val- 
 ley, and the Wyoming Central, the latter short line under construe- 
 
218 THE LAST LAP 
 
 tioii l)_v the Fremont, Klkhorn and Missouri Valley. As has been 
 stated, he was president of these leased lines. The Sioux City and 
 Pacific had 107.42 miles, the Fremont, Klkhorn and Missouri Valley 
 l,15-t.45 miles. The Wyoming liad built 26 miles during the year. 
 Adding these three subsidiaries to the North Western system mile- 
 age, Hughitt was operating 5,497.62 miles of railroad. 
 
 His second year of office was a bad one financially — through no 
 fault of his ; gross earnings took a dive to the extent of $1,005,299.82 
 — more than 90 per cent of which was decrease in freight revenue, 
 due partly to the failure of the crops in Iowa and western Illinois 
 and in much greater measure to regulatory laws — the new Inter- 
 state ConuTicrce Law and the actions of state legislatures in giving 
 rate-making powers to commissioners. In Minnesota the state com- 
 mission had fixed prices for service at less than the actual cash cost 
 of performing it. The commissioners in the state of Iowa had estab- 
 lished rates for the business of interstate lines which seemed to halt 
 any chance of return on capital stock investments. 
 
 In the belief that "in union there is strength" the North Western, 
 in company with the other railroads concerned, had during the year 
 become a party to the "presidents' agreement," which was launched 
 because of complications which had arisen due to the intrusion of 
 lines which, because of their position on foreign soil (Canada), were 
 not responsible to the Interstate Commerce Law under which the 
 American lines had to contend for traffic. Hughitt, in his report, 
 observed that "there were other elements of disturbance between im- 
 portant lines running out of Chicago." 
 
 In brief, there was a rate war on. 
 
 1889 was a good year despite the Interstate Commerce Law and 
 the various state railroad commissions. Although the average rate 
 for each ton of freight had been pushed down from $1.63 to $1.50 
 these earnings were $19,651',21 13.21' — or more than 8 per cent over 
 the previous year. The regulatory lawmakers probably patted them- 
 selves on their backs and said, "We told you so." Business was so 
 good that the railroads forgave the commissioners — for the time 
 being; after all, the more you haul the less you can charge — and 
 still do well. 
 
 During 1890 the North Western absorbed one of the largest of 
 
ENTRANCE TO THE NEW CENTURY 
 
 its proprietary lines — the Toledo and North Western Railway, con- 
 sisting of 285.19 miles of track in Iowa. It also completed the Junc- 
 tion Railway in Cook County, Illinois, completing the system of out- 
 side connections between the three main lines of the company enter- 
 ing Chicago- — enabling the transfer of freight without bringing it 
 into the crowded city yards. The Paint River Railway was built 
 as an extension to the Crystal Falls branch of the North Western 
 to afford transportation facilities to the tremendously productive 
 Hemlock mine as well as to the other iron ore mines being developed 
 in the locality. Land grants to the extent of 53,639 acres in Michi- 
 gan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota were sold ; Minnesota acres averaged 
 $6.63 ; Wisconsin, $2.87 ; Michigan, $3.08. The net surplus from all 
 sources for the year was as follows: from the Chicago and North 
 Western, $234,758.60; from the Trans-Missouri River lines, $51,- 
 951.87; from the Land Department, $433,126.97. Total $719,- 
 837.53. 
 
 The report for the fiscal year ending May 31, 1892, covers the 
 operation of 4,273.07 miles in so far as the Chicago and North 
 Western Railway proper and its proprietary lines were concerned. 
 The proprietary lines contributed 1,188.47 miles of this total, these 
 being the Dakota Central, the Winona and St. Peter, and the 
 Princeton and W^estern. The Trans-Missouri River lines — the Sioux 
 City and Pacific and the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley (not 
 yet included in the accounts of the Chicago and North Western) 
 had 1,401.96 miles — bringing a total of 5,675.03 miles of track 
 under President Hughitt's supervision. Hughitt announced : 
 
 The great extent of the Company's lines, its variety of agricultural, 
 mineral and manufacturing traffic, its movement of livestock, forest prod- 
 ucts, merchandise and many other commodities, together with the growth 
 of passenger traffic in all the growing cities, towns and country served 
 by the railroad, compel large outlays for increased terminal facilities, 
 side and store tracks, depot enlargements, station accommodations, addi- 
 tional real estate, equipment of engines and cars, and double track con- 
 struction on many crowded parts of the system, to keep pace with the 
 business. In these respects the Company has the past year provided for 
 current requirements with prudent regard to future needs, and has ex- 
 pended the net sum of $3,911,711.17. This includes $1,821,147.86 for 
 new and additional equipment of engines and cars, $110,826.45 for sec- 
 
220 THE LAST LAP 
 
 ond track, $22C,C50.01 for balance of cost of completed roads, $771,- 
 020.18 for 8C.53 miles new road laid as side tracks, $218,756.17 for real 
 estate and rij;lit-of-way, and $160,310.47 for other items of miscellaneous 
 construction and improvements on the various lines. 
 
 r'reight terminals at West Chicago Shop grounds, with track capacity 
 for receiving, switching and handling 1,700 cars were constructed, with 
 the combined facilities of a large, new engine-house, coal sheds, water 
 supply, etc. Improvements requiring large expenditures arc in progress 
 at the Wells Street passenger station and yard, and at other city stations 
 in Chicago and at Milwaukee, and many points upon the road. 
 
 During the lattei* half of 1892, Hughitt was busy arranging de- 
 tails for the acquisition of the Milwaukee, Lake Shore and Western 
 Railway Company. At the annual meeting, May 31, 1893, he was 
 able to state that "the concluding steps are in progress at this time 
 and are expected to be fully accomplished during the present sea- 
 son." The sale was completed August 19, 1893. 
 
 The Lake Shore, as it was generally called before it lost its iden- 
 tity, ran from Milwaukee to Manitowoc, its main line tiien i-unning 
 inland and northwest to Little Falls, crossing the North Western 
 tracks at Appleton and forming junction at Interior Junction, 
 which was then a North Western terminus. The Lake Shore con- 
 tinued to Little Falls and from Interior Junction to Ashland with 
 lines from Clintonville to Oconto, from Eland Junction to Marsh- 
 field, and from Monico to Hurley, with a spur between Pratt Junc- 
 tion, Harrison, and Parrish Junction. It added 757.71 miles to the 
 Chicago and North Western System along with 60 miles of road 
 leased from the St. Paul Eastern Grand Trunk. 
 
 In 1891 the mileage by states of the Chicago and North Western 
 was as follows : 
 
 In Illinois 693.97 
 
 In Wisconsin 1 ,579.62 
 
 In Michigan 521 .19 
 
 In Iowa 1,163.12 
 
 In Minnesota 414.47 
 
 In South Dakota 744.13 
 
 In North Dakota 14.28 
 
 Total 5,030.78* 
 
 * Exclusive of the Trans-Missouri Hivcr lines. 
 
ENTRANCE TO THE NEW CENTURY 221 
 
 In 189-i business was still in the doldrums because of the general 
 depression of the two previous years. Industry had declined, and 
 freight earnings had fallen off heavih' ; passenger traffic had held its 
 own only because of Chicago's AVorld's Fair (a situation that re- 
 peated itself during the second World's Fair of 1933). A strike 
 which originated in the Pullman car shops spread through all the 
 roads running southwest, northwest, and west out of Chicago. The 
 strikes, when settled, were followed almost at once by complete fail- 
 ure of the crops in Iowa, Nebraska, and South Dakota. However, 
 net earnings were sufficient to pay 7 per cent on the pi'eferred stock 
 and, after drawing on the undivided surplus of previous years, to pay 
 4 per cent on the common — the only road in the region to pay any- 
 thing. 
 
 In 1895 the Chicago and North Western, through Hughitt, turned 
 its attention to its Wisconsin grant, then consisting of 284,000 acres 
 of timberlands near the northern boundary of Wisconsin and Michi- 
 gan. The land, as has been noticed, had been selling — when it was 
 selling — for less than two dollars an acre, and at that, the demand 
 was light. Hughitt decided to make the region accessible, and for 
 that jjurpose the Wisconsin Northern Railway Company was formed 
 to connect with the Chicago and North Western at Big Suamico in 
 Brown County, to run through Brown, Oconto, Shawano, Forest, 
 and Florence counties to the state border, a distance of about 115 
 miles. The road was built on contract and purchased by the Chicago 
 and North Western in 1897 — so some of Wisconsin's finest agricul- 
 tural land came to be redeemed from the forest. 
 
 The 3'ear 1896 was indeed a sad one. To quote President Hughitt: 
 
 A summary of the general results of the year shows a decrease in gross 
 earnings derived from traffic of $2,51 1,517.62, compared with the earnings 
 of the previous year; passenger earnings fell off $445,248.84, and freight 
 earnings decreased $2,118,009.77, with an increase in earnings from mail, 
 express and miscellaneous of $51,740.99. The shrinkage in passenger 
 business was, for the most part, due to the decline in first-class travel, 
 and evidenced the dulness and hesitation of business consequent upon the 
 uncertainties of financial and political affairs, which characterized the 
 agitation of the Presidential election during the greater part of the 
 fiscal year. 
 
 These effects were more disastrouslv felt in reduction of freight earn- 
 
inps. The tonnage movement fell off 1,857,251 tons, or 10.87 per cent, 
 and the reduction in rates was equal to a loss of $903,153.92 on the re- 
 duced traffic of the year. The principal decline in tonnage was in the 
 transportation of iron ore and other ores, which fell off 1,792,526 tons, 
 leaving the total comparative loss in tonnage of other articles which made 
 up the year's movement at C 1,725 tons ; there was a decline in lumber of 
 191,221 tons; in wheat and flour 5,40-i tons; in oats 2t,931 tons; in barley 
 50,420 tons, and an increase in corn and rye of 237,000 tons ; the balance 
 of the tonnage was made up of miscellaneous articles as compared with 
 the same articles transported in the preceding year, the decrease in the 
 movement of which amounted to 29,71'9 tons. 
 
 The annual report for the thirty-ninth fiscal year of existence for 
 the Chicago and North Western Railway, ending May 31, 1898, and 
 recounting the accomplishments of the previous twelve months, was, 
 dating from the Galena start, delivered on the road's fiftieth anni- 
 versary. Hughitt may have mentioned the matter to some of his fel- 
 low directors — but there is no reference to it in the records ; maybe 
 folks were not as anniversary-minded in those days, 
 
 William Jennings Bryan, his "Cross of Gold," liis "Crown of 
 Thorns," and his "Free Silver" had been successfully buried under 
 an avalanche of Republican votes. Major William McKinley was 
 President, capital loosed its purse strings, and prosperity was again 
 with us. Hugliitt joyously recited this ode to good times: 
 
 The revival in business during the past fiscal year has resulted in an 
 increase in the gross receipts of the company of $5,073,317.57. After 
 paying the current expenses and taxes, the fixed charges and usual divi- 
 dends on preferred and common stock, there is a surplus of $2,235,322.59. 
 
 The new century started well for the ]Middle West and for the 
 railroads that had contrived it out of the wilderness. Markets for 
 farm products were good. Building was active. Manufacturers were 
 prosperous. And there was no lack of money for land and town-lot 
 speculation. New Chicagos were advertising themselves blatantly at 
 every crossroads or river landing, and the burden of their song was 
 always the same: If the railroads could make one miracle city, they 
 could make another, and this time, of course, the hub of the universe 
 was going to be I.ostvillo on the prairie. 
 
 Sioux City, wliicli had been an imiMirtant point in the Missouri 
 
223 
 
224 THE LAST LAP 
 
 Ilivcr traffic continued to be important with the early aid of several 
 raih'oads. Witliin a few years it became a great com market and 
 livestock center. Quite obviously it was scheduled to grow. The only 
 question was how much. E. C. Peters and some other local promoters 
 thouf>ht it would be wise to set no limits. 
 
 Peters owned a tract of land in the somewhat swampy valley of 
 the Floyd River. It was definitely outside the city limits and not 
 too accessible. So Peters promoted an elevated railroad, the third 
 one ever seen in the United States, and sold building lots at the end 
 of it. New York banks that bought Sioux City mortgages paid a 
 large percentage of the cost of development, and though the ele- 
 vated collapsed, Peters's suburb turned out to be permanent. 
 
 Far from being unique, the Sioux City case was typical of the 
 period. Prosperity was definitely at hand, and not even the worst 
 pessimist would venture to forecast an end to it. Such things had 
 happened before and have happened since. 
 
 All the railroads were doing well in those years, the North West- 
 ern better than ever. The 3'ear 1900 was one of intensive building 
 and improvement. Double tracking had been completed over 333 of 
 the 487 miles between Chicago and Council Bluffs. All the track 
 elevation required by the Chicago City Council up to that date had 
 been completed. 
 
 A bridge 2,750 feet long and 184 feet high was built across the 
 valley of the Des Moines River to eliminate a bad pull over the 
 Moingona hill between Boone and Ogden, Iowa. New stations of 
 stone and brick replaced the classic red wooden depots not only 
 along the main line but at such outposts as Sleepy Eye, Minnesota, 
 and Pierre, South Dakota. 
 
 A new line was extended from Nelson, Illinois, to Peoria and 
 thence southward to an East St. Louis connection to tap the Illinois 
 coal fields. 
 
 In 1902, the Chicago and North Western Railway company offi- 
 cially took over the railroad, franchise, and property of the Fre- 
 mont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad. The Fremont, Elk- 
 horn and Missouri Valley Railroad, which had 1,372 miles of road, 
 was operating lines from Fremont, Nebraska, to Hastings, Lincoln, 
 and Superior, Nebraska; to the Black Hills; and into Wyoming as 
 far as Casper. 
 
ENTRANCE TO THE NEW CENTURY ^dO 
 
 In 1905 the Chicago and North Western extended the line 148 
 miles to Lander to prepare for the rush that would come with the 
 opening of 1,410,000 acres of the Shoshoni reservation. 
 
 New extensions were authorized in 1909 for lines in the St. James 
 district and Belle Fourche Valley of South Dakota. In 1911 the new 
 passenger terminal in Chicago was opened, and Will Ogden's rail- 
 road seemed to have reached the peak of its prosperity. 
 
Cl 
 
 lap/er 2S 
 
 Y E S T E R n A Y ' S FRONTIER 
 
 The Northwest, that promised land of wliicli Will Oydtii had 
 dreamed and preached, had cliangcd prodigiously since he had first 
 set foot on it at the mouth of the Chicago River in 1835. For one 
 tiling it was no longer the Northwest any more than Ohio, Indiana, 
 Illinois, and Wisconsin, which had been so marked on tiie maps of 
 revolutionary times. It was a region unlike tlie New World of which 
 it was a contiguous part or the Old World that had populated it, 
 a region out of whose mixed bag of races and creeds and philosophies 
 were emerging a unity of spirit and something like an indigenous 
 culture. And this, which had been yesterday's frontier, was now the 
 Middle West, axis of a nation and potentially the richest area on 
 earth. 
 
 Ogden had ridden horseback over the dangerous trails out of Chi- 
 cago into the wilderness of the North Woods, the unpromising groves 
 and rolling meadows of what was to be Iowa, the desolate emptiness 
 of uncharted valleys in the territory beyond the upper jMississippi — 
 even to the barren edges of the red Missouri. And he had seen things 
 in these vast solitudes that other men could not see. He had pictured 
 the advance of civilization a thousand miles, not in a hundred years 
 or two hundred, but in a single generation. He had lived to see the 
 fulfillment of his vision but not to realize the extent of it. He died 
 most likely without knowing that he had earned a place among the 
 empire builders. 
 
 William IJutler Ogden had been a prophet but he had never been 
 enough of a prophet to foresee the caprices of steam transport. 
 
 He had believed that the railroad would bring some big business 
 to the sprawling town that accident had dropped at the foot of I-ake 
 Michigan. But never in his right mind would lie have predicted that 
 
 226 
 
YESTERDAY S FRONTIER 
 
 227 
 
 the steam locomotive, passing by more logical prospects, would drag 
 this improbable village out of a swamp to a place among the world's 
 first five cities. Out of an abiding and convincing faith he had 
 preached of wonders that would one day come out of the never-never 
 land beyond the end of the rail. But he could not have told what the 
 wonders would be. He had looked into the future to see great oceans 
 of ripening wheat and Babylonian towers filled with yellow com. He 
 knew all about the treks and traffic of the voyageurs, hunters, and 
 traders. But he died without ever having heard of the Merritt 
 brothers or of the fabulous Mesabi iron range. He had heard that a 
 gold strike had been made in the Black Hills — but there was no rail 
 into the Black Hills, not yet. 
 
 The wealth of the land had been sufficient to bring his railroad 
 through depressions he had not envisioned. Transcontinental trains 
 were rolling in and out of Chicago over the tracks of the Chicago 
 and North Western Railway. Frontiers were rapidly receding. The 
 Indians were quiet now . . . there wouldn't be any more blood- 
 letting like the affair of the Little Big Horn — not likely. Will Ogden 
 could die content in the thought that the pioneers had won the West 
 and that the nation was now a glorious prosperous unit from the 
 Atlantic to the Pacific. A lot of his contemporaries shared the 
 thought: Have I flayed well the -part? Give me then your applause. 
 Not even then was any man in America seer enough to foretell what 
 the trend of the drama was going to be or its climax. 
 
 Ogden had been dead some twenty years. Across the skyline above 
 Pig's-Eye on the Mississippi stretched the tall massed cylinders of 
 the grain elevators, in many ways the most tremendous architecture 
 that had been given to the world since Egypt. Towering cities had 
 grown out of the settlements about St. Anthony Falls and out of the 
 hamlets of Omaha and Council Bluffs and Sioux City and Sioux 
 Falls and Des Moines and Rockford and Elgin and out of the dreamy 
 villages by the Lake Michigan shore. A great university had risen 
 between the lakes at Madison. The barren reaches of upper Michi- 
 gan were alive with a new sort of pioneering citizenry that attacked 
 the earth with dynamite and drills instead of plows. There was no 
 longer any wilderness in Wisconsin. Green fields had replaced the 
 cutover lands, and dairy herds roamed picturesquely and profitably 
 
228 TUB LAST LAP 
 
 tliroiif^h tlie ^rccn fields. And population was virtually continuous 
 from Beloit to Superior. 
 
 The milling industry had already made the Twin Cities famous. 
 The greatest primary wheat market in the world had sprung up in 
 South Dakota. As a cattle shipping center, Omaha was beginning 
 to rival Chicago. A truly remarkable clinic in the cornfields at 
 Rochester, Minnesota, was attracting international attention. Iowa 
 corn and hogs liad become a principal factor in the nation's food 
 supply, and a dozen industrial enterprises were getting under way 
 in a dozen Iowa towns. The Black Hills hud become one of the great- 
 est gold-producing areas in the world. Thousands and thousands of 
 head of cattle were on the ranges about Belle Fourche and the green 
 plateaus of the Bad Lands. Indian reservations were being opened 
 up, and the tide of settlement was still flowing West. Day and night 
 the copper and iron poured into the loading hoppers along the 
 Lake Superior littoral. 
 
 Out to the far corners of a region that fifty j'ears before had been 
 virtually unexplored went long trainloads of manufactured goods, 
 building materials, farm implements, industrial tools, hardware, and 
 the like. Back came an incredible avalanche of wheat, oats, barley, 
 rye, hay, potatoes, fish, livestock, dressed meat, gold, silver, arsenic, 
 granite, brick, fire clay, cement, feldspar, sausage, soy beans, fruit, 
 spodumene, gypsum, cement, lumber, butter, marble, salt, mica, rock 
 wool, eggs, nuts, sugar beets, poultry, cheese, corn, clover seed, 
 money — the list is endless. 
 
 This, then, is the Middle West. 
 
 It is also the Chicago and North Western Railway. Look at the 
 map of this amazing region from the Kansas state line to Duluth 
 and from Milwaukee to Lander, Wyoming. You find the white spaces 
 of Ogden's time filled up now with the names of literally hundreds of 
 towns that have come to mean something in the American economy, 
 and laced across the picture in a pattern that looks something like 
 a graph of the human circulatory system is the chart of North 
 Western's 9,729 miles of steel. 
 
 The reason, of course, is obvious. The steam railroad made these 
 towns just as it made a fertile homeland out of the barren West. 
 
 In Europe, when finally practical necessity overcame public 
 phobia and the laj'ing of rails began, the problem of the surveyors 
 
YESTERDAY S FRONTIER 
 
 229 
 
 was to link up existing towns as best they could. In the old North- 
 west Territory and the unknown lands beyond, there were no towns. 
 The railroad laid them out, named them, populated them, and nursed 
 them through their formative years. It gave them an excuse for ex- 
 istence hundreds of miles from deep rivers and scores of miles from 
 other human habitation. It enabled them to thrive in isolation in the 
 midst of forests or on prairies as free of track or trail as the bosom 
 of the Atlantic. And whatever the lavish natural resources of this 
 area, the advantages of benign weather and the enterprise of the 
 people who followed the locomotive whistles westward, the great Mid- 
 dle West, as a region, a culture, or an attitude of mind, is definitely 
 the creation of the railroad. 
 
 The North Western's progress into this mysterious realm, like 
 that of all lines west of the Mississippi, was in three stages. First the 
 trains came after the pioneer, as in the Des Plaines Valley in IS^S 
 and later among the marooned towns of the lush valley of the Min- 
 nesota. Then, as in the mining country and parts of Iowa, they 
 moved forward virtually at his side. And finally they were ahead of 
 him out on the flats and into the Indian country, leading him on 
 to a promised land. 
 
 Will Ogden lived to see some of this transition, but by no means 
 its most important part. Today he probably would be unable to 
 recognize the names of dozens of men who helped give substance to 
 his vision. In his declining years perhaps he had heard of Carl 
 Schurz who had led a number of German intellectuals and liberals 
 into Wisconsin after the unsuccessful revolution in Baden in 18-18. 
 Schurz had been the friend and advisor of Abraham Lincoln. He had 
 been Secretary of the Interior and an advocate of timber conserva- 
 tion, and his voice had been heard far across the land. But it is less 
 likely that the great railroad builder had ever met or been concerned 
 with a Scotch lad named John Muir whose father followed the lure 
 of the railroad to a spot near Madison. Certainly he would have 
 no ideas about Robert M. La Toilette or Frank Lloyd Wright or 
 what they might stand for. 
 
 On the whole the characters of the period were as fantastic as the 
 conditions that produced them. Ignatius Donnelly, erratic genius, 
 came to Minnesota in 1856 to map the town of Nininger, stir the ter- 
 ritory's political and social life, establish the authorship of Shake- 
 
230 T II K LAST LAP 
 
 spcarc's plays, and explore the lost continent of Atlantis. His weird 
 essays into the unknown, his striking success as a best-selling author 
 had no effect on the westward course of the rails. The fact that he 
 was able to get elected to a scat in the United States Senate did. 
 He didn't like tlie policies of the railroad operators — and he was as 
 powerful as he was prejudiced. 
 
 Wiien Douglass Houghton, a young explorer, wrecked his dory 
 and drowned off the Keeweenaw peninsula in Lake Superior, the news 
 was a long time getting down to tlic Chicago and North AVestcrn 
 Railway offices in Chicago. Destiny is never in much of a hurry. But 
 from tlie wreck of Houghton's boat an Indian guide saved his field 
 notes, and the notes told about the wonderful copper ore of upper 
 Michigan. 
 
 The Mcrritt brothers, I.eonidas, Napoleon, Jerome, Cassius, Al- 
 fred, Lucius, and Lewis, were timber cruisers who found some red 
 dust on a slope just west of Lake Superior in Minnesota that the 
 Indians call "the height of land." The other name for it is Mesabi. 
 A bo3' set out from a little town in the Root River Valley on a 
 dubious venture. With a gift of persuasion that cannot be over- 
 appraised he had succeeded in borrowing a team of horses from his 
 cautious father. "The lumber companies are getting away from the 
 rivers," he said. "They will need transport. With a team of horses I 
 can earn enough money hauling logs in one season to buy a share of 
 a business for myself." The little boy's name was Weyerhaeuser. 
 
 A doctor in Le Sueur, who never could collect his bills and so was 
 forced to run a steamboat on the Minnesota River as a side line, got 
 some original ideas about surgery. He went to Chicago, conferred 
 with medical rebels like Occhsner, Billings, and Murphy, and came 
 home. He never had any notions about being a miracle man and he 
 had had no experience in the building of better mousetraps. But 
 presently the world was beating a path to his door. He took his 
 talent and his sons. Will and Charlie, to Rochester and opened a 
 larger office. He was Dr. William Worrell Mayo. 
 
 H. N. Ross, a professional miner with the Custer expedition sent 
 out to examine the resources, if any, of the Black Hills, looked at 
 the sand remaining in his pan and saw gold. Chief Sitting Bull and 
 his Sioux braves rode north and got ready for the massacre of tlie 
 Little Biy Horn. 
 
YESTERDAY S FRONTIER 
 
 231 
 
 More gold was discovered in Deadwood Gulch, and a town sprang 
 up. Wild Bill Hickok was shot in it. Jack McCall was hanged. Beadle 
 began to print a dime novel entitled Deadwood Dick, and presently 
 all the rainbow chasers, gamblers, thieves, roustabouts, harlots, and 
 high-graders in the Missouri Valley were on their way to the gold 
 fields. 
 
 Captain Meriwether Lewis and Lieutenant William Clark passed 
 along the route of the Chicago, St. Paul, Minneapolis and Omaha 
 Railway between Council Bluffs and Sioux City long before the sur- 
 veyors or the now-forgotten Kilroy. One of their party. Sergeant 
 Floyd, was stricken with what one of them diagnosed as a "Billiouse 
 Chorlick." He died at the mouth of the little river that now bears 
 his name. The expedition went on to plant the flag on the Pacific 
 shore and to claim what was actually the Northwest Territory for 
 the United States. 
 
 Mike Fink, legendary trapper and river boatman, was up in these 
 parts when no man's land began twenty feet from either side of the 
 Missouri. He left a record for mayhem and murder all the way from 
 St. Louis to the Yellowstone. 
 
 After these worthy pioneers came Pierre Chouteau, the fur dealer, 
 who opened a trading post west of the river. The LTnited States Cav- 
 alry came along in 1854 and took advantage of Chouteau's spade- 
 work to establish a military base. They called it Fort Pierre. It 
 seemed to offer few advantages as a railroad terminal, even had there 
 been any railroads. Considered with information denied the aging 
 Will Ogden, it seems unlikely even now. 
 
 There were giants or a reasonable facsimile along the river in 
 those days. The North Western came into Sioux City in 1868. Wait- 
 ing for it was one E. C. Peters who figured the influx of population 
 it was presently to bring and decided to do something about it. He 
 built an elevated railroad. 
 
 Ogden probably heard the tragic news of General George Arm- 
 strong Custer before his passing. Word of the encounter with Sitting 
 Bull was a long time filtering back to civilization and difficult to be- 
 lieve, but it got there eventually. Custer and the 276 men of his com- 
 mand had been wiped out in half an hour's fighting. But the railroad 
 builder knew nothing of the end of hostilities and the treaty by 
 which the Indians gave up all claim to western South Dakota. Nor 
 
282 THE LAST LAP 
 
 did he have any inkling of the advent of the medicine man Wovoka 
 wlio promised to raise up the ghosts of dead Sioux warriors to lead 
 the living in the extermination of the whites. 
 
 Up from Chadron, Nebraska, the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri 
 Valley, later part of the North Western, came into the hills — to 
 Rapid City in 188G, Whitcwood in 1887, Belle Fourchc and Dead- 
 wood, 1890. Westward from Chadron at the same time the tracks 
 were pushed to the Wyoming state line in 188G; Douglas, Wyoming, 
 1887; Casper, 1888. 
 
 The great Sioux reservation was about to be broken up. Cattle 
 were already running in the West River country. Scotty Philip 
 had a tremendous ranch near Pierre where he was trying to breed 
 the biggest herd of buffalo on earth. On White River, near the Hills, 
 Corbin Morse of Rapid City was grazing a couple of thousand iicad 
 of white-faced Herefords. 
 
 The gold camps were still roaring, but in no considerable volume. 
 The overnight millionaire hadn't been seen in Deadwood for a long 
 time now. There weren't any pockets left along Elacktail Creek or 
 Gold Run. 
 
 Claims were being consolidated and passing into the hands of 
 four or five wealthy operators. Individualists — lone sourdoughs 
 with pick and pan — no longer could hope to find a footing in Lead. 
 Lead belonged to the Homestake. And the Homcstake belonged to 
 Phoebe Hearst. 
 
 Across the hill were enough paying mines to provide some compe- 
 tition — the Oro Hondo (said to be owned by Millikin who had just 
 sold the (jolden Cycle of Cripple Creek) ; the Wasps, Number 1 and 
 Number 2; the Montezuma; and the Wiiizzers. Most of these were 
 low-grade mines, and it was obvious that any operator might easily 
 put more gold into them than he was likely to take out. There was 
 plenty of nervous tension up in the northern Hills — and drama and 
 suspense — and good business for the railroad. 
 
 Poker Alice was playing a few hands nightly in Sturgis, unaware 
 that it was a matter of anybody's business but her own. Potato Creek 
 Johnny, not yet looked upon as a quaint old character by the other 
 denizens of the Hills, was trying to keep body and soul together 
 j)anning a dollar or two every day or so out of Potato Creek. Dead- 
 wood Dick was still just a character in Beadle's dime novels. 
 
YESTERDAY S FRONTIER 
 
 233 
 
 On December 15, 1890, cavalry and Indian police were sent to 
 arrest Sitting Bull to keep him from joining a Sioux uprising. The 
 chief resisted and was shot through the head. 
 
 A week later in the Harney bar in Rapid City a general stared 
 glassily into his whisky while at Wounded Knee Creek a regiment of 
 trigger-happy soldiers slaughtered a couple of hundred Indians, in- 
 cluding women and children, who had already surrendered. Buffalo 
 Bill, with Mayor John R. Brennan of Rapid City, paid a visit to the 
 Wounded Knee "battlefield." He refused to talk about it. 
 
 C. D. Crouch and a young British army engineer, ¥. S. D. Brough- 
 ton, began to promote a railroad through the Black Hills from 
 Rapid City to Mystic on the west slope, by way of Rapid Canyon, 
 a tortuous pass. His backers, it was said, were hoping to sell their 
 34 miles of right of way to some railway that might need it as a 
 link in a transcontinental route. 
 
 All of this was in the backgi-ound as the Chicago and North West- 
 ern Railway entered upon the last 168 miles of its western advance 
 at the turn of the century. Most of the characters were on the stage. 
 But not all. Still to be heard from were Gutzon Borglum, the moun- 
 tain-carver, silent Cal Coolidge, a visitor from New Hampshire, 
 Governor William J. Bulow, a harried reception committee, and Alex 
 Johnson, an able diplomat — nobody could have predicted any of 
 them, either, in the days when William Butler Ogden was urging the 
 Pioneer on its solemn round to Oak Park. But it seems to have been 
 that way with most of the people whose destiny was linked with the 
 railroad's varied progress. When there was need for them to appear, 
 they appeared. It was inevitable. 
 
C/iap/er 29 
 
 r 
 
 AGAIN A FARMER'S RAILROAD 
 
 One of the results of tlie contest over the state capital site previ- 
 ously referred to was that the North Western Railway set out from 
 Pierre, South Dakota, to tiie Black Hills with what was to be the 
 last important building program up to the present day. In this as 
 in the campaign for votes there was open rivalry with the Milwaukee 
 road which had also become interested in the West River country. 
 It was one of those shows that for so many years made Dakota rail- 
 roading so interesting and unpredictable. The two lines started West 
 together. 
 
 They moved away from the IMissouri River at the height of iin 
 important boom. By the turn of the century the effects of the slump 
 of the late eighties were disappearing. Crops were good, transporta- 
 tion was good, and prices were liigh in the eastern markets. Once 
 more the farmers were prosperous. 
 
 At the same time changes had occurred in the hill country. No 
 new strikes of any significance had been made in the Deadwood area. 
 The gold ore was still low grade. But there was plenty of it, and new 
 extraction processes and efficient operating methods had made it 
 extremely profitable. 
 
 The Holy Terror mine at Keystone, in the southern hills, had be- 
 come a big producer, and small, high-grade mines in the vicinity 
 were keeping the Rapid City smelter busy. Tiiere were the cus- 
 tomary bonanza tides of loose money in the district and almost un- 
 limited markets for whatever anybody might want to sell. 
 
 Also, along the White River and both forks of the Chej^eniie, cattle 
 were being run in increasing numbers. Areas that had not been con- 
 sidered suitable for farming were being put to jiractical use. And 
 
 234 
 
AGAIN A farmer's RAILROAD 235 
 
 South Dakota's overenthusiastic champions were beginning to tell 
 the world that there was no wasteland in all the state. 
 
 Inasmuch as the bad years had most affected the country west of 
 the river, it was the West River country that profited most by chang- 
 ing conditions. The population of this region, largely with railroad 
 assistance, was to increase from 50,600 to 136,700 between 1900 
 and 1910. In the same period the state census was to Icngtiicn from 
 401,500 to 583,800. 
 
 The railroads had brought their lines to the Missouri River in 
 1880. From that point expansion had been hampered by the fact 
 that most of the land to the west was taken up by tlie Great Sioux 
 reservation, but along about 1900 the government began to make 
 plans to release some of the region for white settlement. In 1902, the 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley branch of the North West- 
 ern built 69 miles of road from Verdigre, Nebraska, to Bonesteel in 
 the Rosebud reservation district, west of the Missouri and in the 
 soutliern part of the state. In 190-1 the Rosebud was thrown open. 
 
 The ensuing land rush, the first South Dakota had seen in many 
 years, was spectacular, exciting, and, so far as the North Western 
 was concerned, a commercial success. The government followed a 
 new procedure in the distribution. Two thousand five hundred claims 
 of 160 acres each, a total of 400,000 acres, were put up for sale at 
 four dollars an acre. The wild scramble of the "Cherokee Strip" 
 and similar land grabs had taught the Department of the Interior 
 some valuable lessons. So prospective buyers were required to regis- 
 ter for an assignment of claims as drawn by lot. 
 
 AVith 2,500 claims available, 106,308 persons signed their names 
 for the lottery. Most of them, of course, were speculators who hoped 
 to win a good claim and sell it to some actual settler at a profit. 
 Others were just the same sort of land gamblers who had followed 
 the rails West in the first place. Literally thousands of such people 
 rode the North Western's new extension up into the reservation just 
 to look at land that might or might not be like what they could or 
 could not hope to win in a lottery with the chances forty-two to one 
 against them. 
 
 The registration offices were swamped. More than 7,000 filed past 
 the clerks in Yankton in one day. A thousand were in line at opening 
 time the next morning. They had slept all night in the streets. 
 
880 THE LAST LAP 
 
 A carload of eatables was brought down from Sioux Falls to feed 
 these enthusiasts. It was sold out before noon. 
 
 It was obvious after such demonstrations that movement into 
 other parts of the West River country was inevitable. Alex Johnson, 
 then general agent for the North Western at Winona, Minnesota, 
 loader of the Pierre forces in the capital fight, tells of the situation 
 in his diary : 
 
 In the latter part of 1904 it was decided to extend the road to Rapid 
 City. 
 
 Immediately after tlie vote in the capital fight, local representatives 
 of the Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul had announced that they would 
 build from Chamberlain to the Black Hills. President Ilugliitt made no 
 comment on tliis subject except tliat if any road were to be built to Rapid 
 City his would be first. And it was. 
 
 Both roads started working out of their East and West terminals at 
 once — the Milwaukee from Cliamberlain and Rapid, the North Western 
 from Pierre and Rapid. On the Pierre, Rapid City line the construction 
 crews met near Pliilip and drove the theoretical gold spike without cere- 
 mony. 
 
 Tlie first train to enter Rapid City from the ^Missouri was the North 
 Western. It arrived on August 7, 1907. Milwaukee's line wasn't completed 
 until three months later. Considering that we had to go only 167 miles 
 against the Milwaukee's 220 it had been an unequal contest from the 
 beginning. 
 
 The Chicago and North Western Railway purchased right of way for 
 a part of the distance and followed the Bad River to the Cheyenne. The 
 Chicago, Milwaukee and St. Paul followed the White River and crossed 
 through the Bad Lands. The North Western passed within eight miles of 
 the Bad Lands at Wall. 
 
 The two roads were thus actively competitive. 
 
 Better transportation as usual brought settlers into the west 
 country. More land was offered for settlement on the Rosebud 
 reservation. 
 
 In 1908, 6,000 homesteads were put on sale, most of them at six 
 dollars an acre, the remainder at $4'. 50 and $2.50 an acre. There 
 were 114,769 registrations in the lottery that governed the sale. 
 Fifteen trains a day brought landseekers into the Dallas, South 
 Dakota, terminal of a North Western line extended from Bonesteel. 
 
AGAIN A farmer's RAILROAD 237 
 
 Fifteen thousand persons, including a number of women, registered 
 in one day. 
 
 The west end of the Lower Brule reservation, on the Missouri 
 about halfway between Pierre and Chamberlain, was opened in 1907. 
 Two years later parts of the Cheyenne River and Standing Rock 
 reservations were made available. Thousands upon thousands of 
 hopeful people, a large portion of them strangers to farming even 
 in theory, poured into the West River country. Barbed-wire fences 
 began to appear in the most unlikely places. The free ranges on 
 which the great herds had been wandering since the middle eighties 
 were split up. The native grasses which had made this a favored 
 grazing area in wet season or dry went under the plow. There were 
 loud outcries from the cattlemen. And there were warnings from 
 railroad men who knew the country, including Alex Johnson. 
 
 "We had solicited livestock business in this entire area," he said, "so 
 it was well known that by me and many others it was classed as an ex- 
 clusive livestock grazing range. Others, obviously, thought it was an 
 agricultural country. But it has been pretty well demonstrated that it is 
 an agricultural country only when there is sufficient rainfall — and the 
 rainfall is not dependable." 
 
 He spoke from experience on this point. He and Marvin Hughitt, 
 Jr., bought a ranch near Midland, South Dakota, in the dry farm- 
 ing area and worked it with the best available scientific advice but 
 otherwise as any settler would have had to work it. They just about 
 broke even for five years. After that they sold at a price twelve 
 hundred dollars above what they had paid for the land. After pay- 
 ing outstanding bills, Johnson's share of this profit was $134. But 
 he emerged from the transaction with some understanding of what 
 would have to be done if the West River country and the railroads 
 serving it were to survive. 
 
 Apparently he had some serious talks on the subject with Presi- 
 dent Hughitt. He wrote: 
 
 Mr. Hughitt was convinced, when he found out how many settlers were 
 moving into our territory, that many of them were prepared to do grain 
 farming on the basis of land agents' estimates, activities and publicity. 
 And again and again he instructed that plans should be made to help 
 
238 THE LAST LAP 
 
 these settlers. We culled on the State Agricultural College at Brookings 
 for help as we had done many times before. 
 
 We brought in experts in dairy grasses and hardy seeds, livestock and 
 subjects that pertain to tliat part of the country and we started on an 
 agricultural program. 
 
 We were not so successful. Tlie settlers were all range livestock men. 
 They were not radical. But their recitals of personal experience were not 
 encouraging to newcomers and there were many obstacles to be over- 
 come. . . . 
 
 The program went on nevertheless. The North Western's farm 
 experts finally got some cooperation in plans for crop rotation and 
 diversification and soil conservation. Corn began to grow in regions 
 that had been thought unsuited to it. Great wheat districts like the 
 St. James Valley, no longer dependent on a single crop, have since 
 come through all disasters save collapsing money markets and 
 droughts like that of 1936 with some show of profit. 
 
 As for the cattle country, the Federal government started to do 
 something about saving it in lO.'JO. Numbers of claims tiiat liad been 
 futilely worked as farms were brought back from the settlers taken 
 out of cultivation and seeded with grass. Earthen dams were built 
 to impound rainfall and increase the number of watering places. The 
 program is by no means comprehensive but it has had its beneficial 
 effects. Western South Dakota is still one of the world's great live- 
 stock producing areas. 
 
 It was the livestock business that lured the North Western sub- 
 sidiar}', the Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad, to the 
 Wyoming state line in 188G, and another subsidiary, the Wyoming 
 Central Railway, from that point to Casper in 1888 and on to Lan- 
 der in 1905. The cowboy is still the most important figure in that 
 end of the country, and livestock movements are still sufficient to 
 justify an outpost of the old Galena and Chicago Union Railroad 
 at the foot of the Tetons. 
 
 But that isn't all of tlic stor^'. The visionaries who were still in- 
 sisting on pushing the North Western across the great plains had 
 more than their usual luck. In 1890 oil was found in the Salt Creek 
 field — a high quality of oil that amazed the experts. A refinery was 
 
AGAIN A FARMER S RAILROAD 
 
 built at Casper in 1895. Two pipe lines were run to tjic field in 1916, 
 and the boom was on. 
 
 The period of mass h^-stcria ended some time after World War I, 
 and Casper has gone about its business more quietly ever since. 
 But there is still oil in the Salt Creek field and plenty of demand 
 for it back where the North Western Railway comes from. 
 
 As for the rest of this Wyoming line, you can find coal along it 
 almost anywhere you look. 
 
 Rapid City, terminus of the line from Pierre, had been a place of 
 many guises during the brief but spectacular history of the Black 
 Hills. It had been located by John Brennan, Samuel Scott, and 
 others as the prospective center of a prospective farming com- 
 munity. The farms were a long time coming. 
 
 With the arrival of the stage line from Sidney-, Nebraska, in 1876, 
 the town became a supply station and hay camp. Despite intermit- 
 tent gold discoveries in the neighborhood it remained a hay camp 
 until the advent of the railroad ten years later. 
 
 In the eighties quartz mining was going on extensively in the 
 Keystone and Rockerville districts, and ore was being hauled in by 
 ox teams to a smelter in Rapid. The community, then, was a counter- 
 part of Deadwood or Lead or any of the other gold-mining towns 
 in the northern hills. 
 
 The high-grade ores of the neighborhood played out, or lack of 
 water or litigation stopped the operation of the mines that had been 
 feeding Rapid. So the smelter closed up and eventually collapsed. 
 But the town had no concern about that. Lady Luck still walked 
 with it — this time to point out the lucrative cattle business over east 
 a bit. 
 
 So Rapid City became a cow town complete with saloons, harness 
 shops, gambling joints, and hitching racks. That was the town that 
 the passengers from Pierre discovered on August 7, 1907. But it 
 was already getting ready to dress for a new part. The land agents, 
 townsite agents, and barbed-wire salesmen were flocking into town. 
 Dozens of them had come across the prairie in buggies before the 
 first train whistle was heard in the Bad Lands. 
 
 The hardy-perennial seers of Rapid City knew what was going 
 to happen. The fences were coming, and the little farms and the net- 
 works of roads and the breaking up of the sod. And the cattlemen 
 
240 THE LAST LAP 
 
 were going to have to go out of business or move. But it wasn't 
 going to be too much of a IjIow. Presently all the land between the 
 hills and the river was going to be filled with homesteaders — thou- 
 sands of them — raising wheat, or tr^'ing to raise it, on the old 
 ranges. 
 
 The old-timers of Rapid Citj' had seen too many projects come 
 and go to venture a guess whether the agricultural theory of these 
 newcomers might be right or not. It was the homesteader's privilege 
 to find out for himself. As Tom Sweeny, the myriad-minded merchant 
 put it : 
 
 If they say this is going to be a great agricultural community, then 
 we shall be the willing suppliers of this great agricultural community. It 
 is not for us to ask what use a man may make of the goods he purchases 
 from us, nor how much benefit they're going to be to him. If a sad-eyed, 
 shaky, dcfeated-looking man comes to you to buy a cheap revolver, by 
 all means sell it to him . . . but don't be foolish about extending him 
 credit. 
 
 So Rapid City became a distributing center for the southern Hills 
 and a great part of the West River country and maintained a com- 
 fortable existence for just about twenty years. The solid populace 
 that had succeeded the stage drivers and miners and cowboys may 
 not have had an exciting life but it w as a lot less tiring than the rou- 
 tine their fathers remembered. 
 
 Something of the same metamorphosis had come to the northern 
 Hills, too. The Homestake had tahcn in most of the competing mines 
 in the district, and gold production had become about as romantic 
 as the running of a steam laundry. Wild Bill Hickok, a badman of 
 dubious stature, and Calamity Jane, an unprepossessing harlot, had 
 been dead for quite a long time. Deadwood Dick — save in reason- 
 able facsimile provided by the chamber of commerce — had never ex- 
 isted. National prohibition had come along to close up the mildewed 
 honky-tonks. And the normal people left in these towns to carry on 
 a normal business took a deep breath, kicked off their shoes, put on 
 their slippers, and sat down to lead a normal life. 
 
 About this time (1927) two unforeseen influences came westward 
 to affect the destiny of the Black Hills. One was Gutzon Borglum, 
 the sculptor, who had been invited by State Historian Doane Robin- 
 
AGAIN A FARMER S RAILROAD 
 
 241 
 
 son. The other was Calvin Coolidge, President of the United States 
 and particular concern of the North Western Railway. 
 
 Borglum, who had been frustrated in his plan to carve the story 
 of the Confederacy on the side of Stone Mountain, Georgia, was 
 looking for a new project of similar scope. Robinson suggested that 
 he chisel out a bust of Washington four times larger than the Egyp- 
 tian Sphinx on one of the Black Hills peaks. Borglum came, selected 
 a granite knob called Mount Rushmore, and went to work. 
 
 There had been some tourist business in the Hills since the coming 
 of the railroad — there had always been some of it even back in the 
 stagecoach days. But some of the local boys, including Paul Bel- 
 lamy who operated a bus line out of Rapid City, didn't think there 
 was enough. You could get to the towns on the railroads all right. 
 But not much farther. The hill roads were bad and those that were 
 passable seldom led to any points of interest. 
 
 So Bellamy and his committee had played some politics and 
 brought about the establishment of Custer Park, a state game pre- 
 serve and recreation center. They got an appropriation for some 
 road improvements. Then, having viewed their handiwork and found 
 it good, they invited Calvin Coolidge to spend his vacation in the 
 enjoyment of it. 
 
 While the world was still laughing at the preposterous brashness 
 of these naive people of the Hills, Coolidge accepted the invitation. 
 
 The job of bringing the President from Washington to Rapid 
 City devolved on the Chicago and North Western Railwa}'. It in- 
 volved logistics generally associated with the movement of an army 
 corps. Not only the President but his official family had to be trans- 
 ferred: Cabinet members, officials outside the Cabinet, corps of sec- 
 retaries, assistant secretaries, stenographers, messengers, advisors 
 — correspondents, photographers, secret-service operatives, and 
 carloads of people still unidentified. North Western tacticians went 
 to work on this problem two months before a solution was going to 
 be needed and, well in advance of the departure from Washington, 
 had arranged for the arrival, spotting, and unloading of every car 
 in the movement ; the feeding, transfer, and billeting of every pas- 
 senger ; arrangement for priority over regular trains — one of the 
 most intricate schedules that, up to the moment, had ever been seen 
 in railroading. 
 
2i2 THE LAST LAP 
 
 It hiul just been complctwl, and tlie arriiiigers had sunk back into 
 their ciiairs wiicn Senator Pete Norbcck called tiie office of the gen- 
 eral passenger agent in Chicago. 
 
 "I hate to mention it," lie said. "Jkit President Coolidge has 
 changed his mind about going with you to the Black Hills. He wants 
 to visit the grave of a distant relative who, unfortunately, is buried 
 somewhere near Mitchell." 
 
 The general passenger agent was too tired to argue. 
 
 "You'll have a copy of the schedule in the mail this morning," he 
 said. "It takes care of every minute the President and his party will 
 be on our line and it provides specific instructions for every man 
 who will have anything to do with the trip. It represents two months' 
 work on the part of several people, and I should like to have 3'ou 
 show the President a copy of it. If he has the sense of economy peo- 
 ple say he has, he may not want to throw it away." 
 
 Senator Norbeck called back some hours later to say that Presi- 
 dent Coolidge was going to the Black Hills over the North Western 
 as originally j)lanned. And so, in due course, he did. Not until months 
 afterward did Senator Norbeck tell what happened when he went 
 to the White House to deliver the schedule. 
 
 "I told him that the North Western officials were anxious to co- 
 operate with him if he wanted to see the grave of this distant cousin 
 or whatever it was," he said. "But I said that they wanted a sort of 
 friendly compromise so all that work wouldn't be wasted. I told him 
 the railroad would be willing to move the relative's body to Rapid 
 City or to Washington- — which would cost less." 
 
 Whether this was actually Senator Norbeck's solution of a per- 
 plexing problem will never be known. But anyway it is a matter of 
 history that the President came to Rapid City by way of Rochester, 
 Mankato, Huron, and Pierre. 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter 30 
 
 TOURISTS, SCULPTURE, AND 
 CATTLE 
 
 Rapid City became the most famous town of its size in the world 
 during that summer. President Coolidge Kved at the game lodge in 
 Custer Park and established his summer White House at the high 
 school. The town was frightfully overcrowded with the influx of 
 about a thousand people who made up the official entourage. In ad- 
 dition to that people came journeying on business from Europe, 
 Asia, Africa, and all parts of the United States. Thousands of others 
 came across the prairie as visiting neighbors. Tlie passenger traffic 
 between Chicago and the Hills approached an all-time peak. 
 
 Next 3'ear the hegira continued, for though Coolidge was gone, 
 Gutzon Borglum was there and he was beginning to make some prog- 
 ress on the sculpture of his great stone faces. New roads had to be 
 constructed to make his work accessible and they, in turn, opened 
 up new vistas of the Hills to sight-seers. So year by year the tide of 
 visitors increased. And presently Rapid City, always adaptable, had 
 taken on a new role as a tourist center. 
 
 It was probably Marvin Hugliitt who said that the Black Hills 
 embraced the richest hundred square miles of territory on earth. 
 Stewart Edward White declared that nowhere else on the globe was 
 such a variety of scenery to be found in so small a compass. They 
 were both very close to right. 
 
 Scenery and riches are where you find them. You can climb the 
 corkscrews of the Iron Mountain road and emerge among the 
 "Needles," a breath-taking concourse of stone spires on the roof of 
 
 243 
 
244 THE LAST LAP 
 
 the world. Or you may ride over the prairie 4 miles from the railroad 
 station at Wall to the Bad Lands and look down upon the majestic 
 beauty of chaotic desolation. And as for riches — gold may come in 
 many ways — out of a gold mine or over a table at the old Bodega 
 in Deadwood, or, if you are running a railroad, it may lie in the 
 undisclosed products of a new land. It may also come from a cow's 
 willingness to cat buffalo grass. 
 
 As we've mentioned elsewhere cattle came into the Hills almost as 
 soon as the gold seekers. The earliest arrivals were brought in be- 
 cause the miners had chased away the Indians from broad pastures, 
 new trails were open out of Cheyenne and Sidney, and there had been 
 three successive years of grassless drought in the South. So the 
 thundering herds came up from Texas to the new open range from 
 Buffalo Gap to the North Dakota Bad Lands. In the summer of 
 1882, 27,000 head of Texas longhorns came in a single drive. And 
 the hard-bcatcn tracks of their passing can still be seen along the 
 Belle Fourclie River. 
 
 This, the Texas travelers discovered, was good grazing ground. 
 Winters at the north end of the Hills were seldom severe. Snows 
 weren't often deep, and the tough prairie grasses that curled up 
 close to the ground in the fall provided adequate food in all sorts of 
 weather. The herds that had been brought for an emergency feeding 
 stayed in the region from then on. 
 
 About 1890 when there began to be signs of the passing of the old 
 open range, more or less modern cattle ranches sprang up along the 
 north fork of the Cheyenne River. The largest was the Diamond A, 
 which controlled 400,000 acres and at one time had about 50,000 
 steers under its brand. Six or seven other outfits in the same region 
 ran herds of from ten to fifteen thousand head apiece. And this in a 
 region that has never been celebrated in the movies, pulp magazines, 
 or ranch-house laments as part of the cow country. 
 
 Until 1886, livestock went out to market the same way it had 
 come into the Hills — on the hoof. The cows were herded down along 
 the old stage-line routes and put aboard the trains at Cheyenne or 
 Chadron. So money came into the Belle Fourche River district, and 
 a town grew up as was to be expected. 
 
 The town, 4 miles southeast of the present railhead, is remem- 
 
TOURISTS, SCULPTURE, AND CATTLE 245 
 
 bered by a few old-timers as "Old Minnesela." It didn't last long 
 enough to get a place on many of the maps, but the smart citizenry 
 remedied that condition in 1890 by making one of their own. The 
 North Western (Fremont, Elkhorn and Missouri Valley Railroad) 
 came up from Whitewood that year, skipped Old Minnesela, and 
 laid out the town which is now Belle Fourche. The Minneselans were 
 incensed at what they considered an unnecessary slight to a going 
 community. Belle Fourche, of course, had nothing but a temporary 
 railroad station. Old Minnesela had a drugstore, a large hotel, a 
 blacksmith shop, one church, one school, some homes, and quite a 
 lot of saloons. 
 
 So when the townsite company held its sale of lots in Belle Fourche, 
 the Minneselans, in every buggy, cart, and wagon they could mobi- 
 lize, brought copies of their map to the end of the rail and tried to 
 lure the customers to a sale of their own. The •i-mile jaunt between 
 Old Minnesela's hotel and the railroad station was too obvious, and 
 the trick failed. The citizens accepted defeat and moved over to 
 Belle Fourche, saloons and all. 
 
 Belle Fourche was a thriving cow town and still is, although it 
 has lost some of the old look. As you stepped off a train in the 1900's 
 you stood at the head of a two-block street in which virtually all the 
 business houses were saloons, gambling halls, or a combination of 
 both. There were few women on the streets and \Trtually no children. 
 Nearly all the men who wove in and out of the scene were cow- 
 punchers in the garb of their trade. At the curbs stood scores of cow 
 ponies, fetlock-deep in mud, with their heads drooping between their 
 knees. 
 
 Today Belle Fourche has paved streets and brick buildings, a new 
 hotel, and a couple of modern moving picture theaters. The galaxy 
 of grogshops burned down sometime before Prohibition and has 
 never been replaced. The town gets along quite well with a single 
 municipal saloon and night club. Cowboys still fill up the town, but 
 most of them seem to be there on business. The cow ponies come off 
 the ranches only at rodeo time. Travel between home and market is 
 now done more quickly by automobile. 
 
 There is no outward resemblance between the sprawling town of 
 Belle Fourche and the Homestake gold mine, but picking one or the 
 
THE LAST I- A : 
 
 other of thcin as a revenue source, a railroad freiglit agent would 
 undoubtedly choose Belle Fourche. In 1893 it established a record 
 as the most important shipping point for range cattle in tlie world. 
 And it has never been far away from that mark since. 
 
 In 18913, 4,700 carloads of stock went out to the Chicago and 
 Omaha markets. Since then such outfits as the Diamond A have 
 gone out of business. The big ranges are cut up, and the problems 
 of cattle raising have multiiilied a hundred per cent. But Belle 
 Fourche unobtrusively reaps a high rating year by year. In 19-i-t 
 the town shipj)ed 7,1.53 carloads of mixed products; in 19-15, 7,i01< 
 cars; in 19-i6, 7,495 cars; and in 1947, 7,848 cars. 
 
 In 1947 the local livestock exchange sold 104,540 cattle and 60,- 
 249 sheep. And several times that year Belle Fourche rated as the 
 number one primary cattle market in tlie United States, if not in 
 the world. 
 
 Cattle raising ceased to be the community's lone industry in 1907 
 when the government completed the Orman irrigation dam across 
 the Belle Fourche River. Since then there has been a great diversifi- 
 cation of farm products. 
 
 The production of sugar beets became an important industry in 
 1917. Beets were shipped out by the trainload to mills outside the 
 state until 1927 when the Utah-Idaho Sugar Company built a fac- 
 tory at Belle Fourche. This plant turned out 250,000 bags of sugar 
 in 1940. One hundred and eighty-eight carloads were sent to mid- 
 western markets in 1947. 
 
 Other shipments during 1947 were: sheep, 989 cars; lumber, 301 
 cars; wheat, 278 cars; brick and tile, 163 cars; wool, 117 cars; 
 hogs, 82 cars ; molasses, 68 cars ; horses, 16 cars ; scrap iron, 9 cars ; 
 bentonite, 4,469 cars ; miscellaneous, 39 cars. 
 
 Bentonite, a claylike mineral whose absorbent qualities make it 
 valuable in well-drilling, iron molding, and cosmetic manufacture, is 
 becoming one of the district's principal products. At this writing 
 the North Western is building a spur track from Belle Fourche to 
 the district where the large deposits have been located. 
 
 The tourist trade, so highly spoken of in the lower Hills, does not 
 come to Belle Fourche much except for the "Roundup," a local rodeo 
 show held in the fall. But nobody seems to care much about visitmg 
 
TOURISTS, SCULPTURE, AND CATTLE 247 
 
 sight-seers. There aren't any dude ranches in the neighboi-hood, 
 either. 
 
 Although you'd have some trouble buying beaded moccasins and 
 souvenir paperweights in the place, the merchants have little cause 
 for worry. Postal receipts last year (1947) were $32,579.03. And 
 the banks did a business of $58,820,000. 
 
Cl 
 
 'lanter S / 
 
 r R O G H E S S — A N D SETBACK 
 
 In 1910 IMakvix IlrcinTT rclinquislicd tlie prcsidcnc^^ to William 
 A. Gardner and became chairman of the Board. Gardner's regime 
 was brief. He died in 1916 and was succeeded by Richard H. Aish- 
 ton. The road continued to flourish. There was still plenty of money 
 in the till. And Gardner was spared the headaches of wartime gov- 
 ernment control that nobody in those halcyon days could have fore- 
 seen. 
 
 The Federal director general of railroads took over the North 
 Western s3\stem on December 28, 1917. For 1918 the company got 
 $23,201,01.5.60 as rent from the government, and paid out $8,816,- 
 106.;39 interest on bonds, .$925,000 war tax, $149,577.01< corporate 
 operating expenses, and $1,201,762 for all other expenses. After 
 payment of dividends there remained $2,418,956. 
 
 The government's report for 1918 showed $127,295,678.35 oper- 
 ating revenues as against $108,264,983.32 received by the Chicago 
 and North Western in 1917— a gain of $19,030,695.03. On the other 
 hand 1917 operating expenses had been .$78,758,988.73 against 
 $109,498,572.24 in 1918. All other expenses (net) were, 1917— 
 $5,108,138.58; 1918— .$5,355,668.98. So the net revenue, which had 
 been .$24,397,856.01 in 1917, dropped under government operation 
 to .$12,441,437.13, or very nearly twelve million dollars. 
 
 On March 4, 1920, the railroads were given back to their owners. 
 Under the Transportation Act of 1920, the railroads were guaran- 
 teed six months' compensation equal to half of what they had re- 
 ceived from the government. And there were some new woes. The 
 Chicago and North Western Company in November, 1920, filed 
 claims against the United States Railroad Administration "for un- 
 dermaintenance; deficiencies in materials and supplies turned back 
 
 248 
 
PROGRESS AND SETBACK 
 
 249 
 
 at the end of Federal control, as compared with the amount taken 
 over ; unpaid compensation ; balances on open accounts ; and for 
 the value of property retired during the Federal control period and 
 not replaced — less all credits due the Railroad Administration." 
 
 The government allowed the claim and paid a total of $15,500,000 
 cash to the company in 1921. This was one of the few bright spots 
 in the annual report. Nineteen twenty-one was a year of wide- 
 spread depression. Railway wages were up until July 1, when the 
 United States Railroad Labor Board established a new scale aver- 
 aging about 11 per cent lower than the year before. Operating ex- 
 penses continued to be abnormally high. 
 
 Business picked up a bit in 1922, and revenues climbed during the 
 next three years. But the difference between gross income and oper- 
 ating expenses somehow never seemed to approach a prewar adjust- 
 ment. 
 
 ]\Iarvin Hughitt, who had been president of the company from 
 1887 until 1910 wiien he was elected chairman of the Board of Di- 
 rectors, resigned that post in 1925 to become chairman of the 
 finance committee. On January 6, 1928, he died. He was nearly 
 ninety-one years old and for fifty-six years had been continuously 
 associated with the Chicago and North Western Railway Company, 
 the directing genius of its spectacular journeyings into new coun- 
 tries. The resolution adopted by the Board of Directors observed : 
 
 His courage and foresight overcame the obstacles of the pioneer days, 
 while his optimism and faith in the destinies of the nation led him far 
 in advancing steam transportation beyond the rugged frontiers. 
 
 His guiding influence and sound judgment were keenly felt in the 
 trying days of the railroad's expansion. With the coming of the ever ex- 
 panding scope of Governmental regulation of railroads, Mr. Hughitt 
 readily adapted himself to the altered environment and never lost con- 
 fidence in the ultimate fairness of the American people. 
 
 Marvin Hughitt's successors were concerned as he had been — and 
 with greater reason — at what seemed to be the increasing illogic 
 in Federal control. 
 
 The fiscal year 1926-1927 had been fairly profitable, but there 
 were signs that gave the auditors concern. During 1927 wage in- 
 
250 THE LAST LAP 
 
 cruascs liiul btin f^riuitcd tlmt added about $1,300,000 to the pay- 
 roll. 
 
 A coal strike had been in prospect at the beginning of the _ycar 
 so the farsighted purcliasing department had laid in 1,000,000 tons 
 of coal as a reserve. The strike, however, went on so long that the 
 company had to go into the open market and buy coal from eastern 
 fields. Tliis increased operating expenses approximately $685,000, 
 and a further increase was caused by the replacement of worn-out 
 and obsolete equipment, $841,057 worth more than required the 
 year before. The surplus, after interest and dividends, decreased 
 $2,583,757. The gross revenue was $4,202,764 below that of the 
 preceding year. 
 
 Meanwhile, improvements were going ahead as if no dire omens 
 could be noted in the annual report. The company had put 5,122 
 new and rebuilt freight cars into service that year. It is interesting 
 to note that a thousand of these were automobile cars — motor-car 
 competition was still being compensated for by tlie revenue that 
 came from transporting motor cars. 
 
 New grain elevators, engine houses, coal-handling plants, gas 
 plants, and water-treating plants, shops, docks, and tracks had 
 been built. At Proviso, Illinois, 32 new tracks had been added to 
 the classification yard, each with a capacity of 100 cars. Subways 
 were constructed under the south end of the yards to carry Lake 
 Street and North Avenue under the tracks. Work was started on 
 a merchandise freight house, and the program that was to make 
 this one of the world's greatest marshaling yards was well under 
 way. 
 
 In 1929 it was completed, with features that made it probably 
 the most remarkable freight terminal in the country. Certainly it 
 was, and is, one of the largest. As it went into service its electric 
 retarder yard alone contained 59 tracks with individual capacities 
 of from 38 to 76 cars each, a total capacity of 3,220 cars on an 
 aggregate track length of 33 miles. 
 
 Its function, of course, is to take individual cars out of one train 
 and put them into other trains where they belong. And this, as in 
 other great switchyards, since the London and Northwestern Rail- 
 way invented the idea in 1873, is done by gravity: 
 
 A group of cars are shoved to the summit of an elevation. One 
 
PROGRESS AND SETBACK 201 
 
 by one or in small groups, according to the classification required, 
 they are allowed to coast down an incline into a maze of branching 
 trackage. Originally the progress of each car was directed by a 
 tender at every switch and a brakeman "riding the top." 
 
 In the Proviso 3'ards, however, the movement of cars into the 
 classification yards from the hump is controlled by 30 mechanically 
 operated retarders. The retarders, located on leads to the various 
 tracks, together with the 58 switches connecting the yard tracks 
 with the leads, are operated from three elevated towers. 
 
 A teletype communicating system transmits switching lists from 
 the agent's office simultaneously to the hump, the yardmaster's office, 
 and each of the three towers. The movements of trains approaching 
 the hump are controlled by a series of signals operated by the yard- 
 master. 
 
 The yard is electrically lighted by floodlights of 1,000-watt ca- 
 pacity on four towers whose height varies from 100 to 120 feet. 
 
 A departure yard, operating in connection with the classification 
 yard, contains 21 tracks (combined length 17 miles) with capaci- 
 ties of 60 to 100 cars each — a total capacity of 1,760 cars. A pneu- 
 matic tube, a mile and a quarter long, connects the agent's office 
 with the departure yard for quick transmission of outgoing way- 
 bills. 
 
 Engine houses at Proviso were rebuilt to make room for larger 
 locomotives. Two electrically operated cinder-handling plants were 
 installed, and among other improvements was a water-softening 
 plant in conjunction with a reservoir of 500,000 gallons capacity. 
 These are only parts of Proviso. So huge is the freight yai'd that 
 for operating efficiency it is divided into nine smaller yards, each 
 with its individual yardmaster supervised by the general yardmaster. 
 Approximately 230 miles of track were laid down in the yard area 
 5 miles long and half a mile wide — enough trackage to hold 26,000 
 cars. The location of this sixteen-million-dollar freight yard, only 
 13 miles west of Chicago, was also strategic since it kept freight 
 operations close to the city, yet just far enough away to be sepa- 
 rated from the congestion of various forms of traffic. Undoubtedly, 
 this was one of the biggest construction jobs, within a comparatively 
 small area, ever undertaken by the \orth Western. 
 
 All that happened in 1929, in October of which year had come 
 
THE LAST LAP 
 
 the big market collapse and the hoginiiiiig of a depression that 
 seemed likely never to end. The railroads didn't feel the shock im- 
 mediately — at least not enough of it to hurt. The officials knew as 
 everybody did that the country was in for plenty of trouble, but 
 at first there was some hope that it might not be permanent. A group 
 of railroad presidents conferred with President Hoover and prom- 
 ised to spend millions in a recovery program. Some of them may 
 have thought they could find the money and that the scheme would 
 work. 
 
Cl 
 
 lapter 32 
 
 TRUSTEESHIP AND 
 REORGANIZATION 
 
 In the year 1930 the North Western built the Wood Street j'ard in 
 Chicago, a series of tracks alongside paved driveways to facilitate 
 handling of potatoes and vegetables. Its constructors still point to 
 it with considerable pride after nearly eighteen years. Unemploy- 
 ment was increasing, and the stock market was virtually out of busi- 
 ness. But there were still indications that some people still had hope 
 in the country. During the year, 528 new industries were established 
 along the company's lines. Most of them had to do with petroleum 
 products, but machinery manufacturers, miscellaneous manufac- 
 turers, building-material distributors, and automobile companies 
 were included in the list. Whatever hope had buoyed them when they 
 came looking for switch-track facilities had faded before the end of 
 1931. 
 
 It was fairly obvious by that time, even to the most hearty opti- 
 mists, that the railroads were going to bear their share of the 
 disaster — and more. Railroad managers became aware of an in- 
 creasing and malignant menace in unregulated truck traffic. At the 
 moment there seemed to be no satisfactory answer to it. Class rate 
 increases requested by the western lines were not allowed by the 
 Interstate Commerce Commission until December 3, 1931, when the 
 truck competition had increased to such an extent that the effect 
 of the decision was virtually nullified. A reduction in grain rates 
 that would have cost the western carriers an annual loss of twenty 
 million dollars was voided by the United States Supreme Court. But 
 livestock rates were reduced. 
 
 253 
 
THE LAST I, AP 
 
 Kconomy measures were discussed without encouraging results. 
 The North Western had nhvays done a large passenger-carrying 
 business. Now it was unable to reduce passenger-train mileage as 
 rapidly as the passenger business declined. Authority had to be ob- 
 tained from regulatory bodies which would not act without tests 
 to demonstrate that a particular train was not needed. Dcsjiite this 
 difficulty, some three million passenger miles were eliminated — not 
 nearly enough to make any great difference in the widening spread 
 between revenue and operating cost. 
 
 Nine hundred and sixty banks failed in North Western territory 
 tliiit year. The company was doing business with sixty-five of them 
 but with what tlie directors sourly considered unusual luck lost only 
 tliree thousand dollars. An additional 117 banks closed their doors 
 in the same nine states served by the North Western in January, 
 1932, and 35 in February. 
 
 With undecorated realism the directors' annual report for 1932 
 observes: "The result of the operation of the company for the year 
 reflects general business conditions." And so it diti, for that year, 
 and the next year, and long years afterward. 
 
 There were better than average crops in 1932 — but that was of 
 small benefit to anybody, including the producers. Prices were low, 
 and there wasn't any market anyway. As compared with 1931, the 
 railroad's revenue from agricultural products had dropped 26 per 
 cent. 
 
 At the same time the movement of manufactured products had 
 decreased 64 per cent, and the traffic in iron ore was only about 5 
 per cent of normal. Business in building materials was little better. 
 
 In previous years, as has been mentioned, the loss of traffic di- 
 verted to motor vehicles was offset somewhat by the revenue that 
 came from hauling automobiles and parts. But at this stage of the 
 depression the automobile industry had just about hit bottom. 
 
 There was only one bit of cheer in the record of this unfortunate 
 year: "All of tlie coinj)any's high-grade, overnight trains are pay- 
 ing." 
 
 Passenger travel in general had declined 73 per cent. The Chicago, 
 Saint Paul, Miimeapolis and Omaha Railway Company (the Omaha 
 line) was unable to jjay $2,485,230 interest on its bonds. The North 
 Western Comj)any was forced to borrow funds to pay interest on 
 
256 THE LAST LAP 
 
 its own debentures sold to refinance the Omaha bonds in 19;J0. The 
 conij)any up to December 31, 1932, liad borrowed $17,039,933 from 
 tlic lleconstriiction Finance Corporation, used $5,000,000 to refund 
 half of a teii-million-dollar loan with the banks, and the remainder 
 to retire equipment trust certificates. 
 
 The net increase of the company's indebtedness for the year added 
 uj) to $13,880,333. 
 
 There was almost a respite in 1933. Grain, iron ore, and forest 
 products started to move again. Thanks to the Century of Progress 
 Exposition in Chicago, passenger traffic picked up a bit. Operating 
 expenses were reduced $2,889,451, to produce a net operating in- 
 come of $6,031,714. 
 
 But there were complications. Two issues of long-term bonds ma- 
 tured tliat year: $0,355,000 of Chicago and North Western Railway 
 Company debentures, and .$7,725,000 of Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Railroad Company consolidated mortgage bonds. It 
 was arranged to refinance these issues by paying 50 per cent cash 
 borrowed from R.F.C. and 50 per cent in general mortgage bonds 
 of 1987. The statement at the end of the year showed a net increase 
 in indebtedness of $20,527,426.48. 
 
 There was no relief the next year. Operating expense increased 7 
 per cent, and net operating income was down 14 per cent. There was 
 a drought in parts of Iowa, Minnesota, South Dakota, and Ne- 
 braska. Suburban passenger revenue dropped 14 per cent. Additional 
 borrowings less some repayments brought the total loans to the com- 
 pany from governmental agencies on December 31, 1934, to .$44,- 
 410,133. The net increase in the system's indebtedness was $22,087,- 
 874. 
 
 Then, on June 28, 1935, President Fred W. Sargent, by direction 
 of the Board of Directors, filed a petition in bankruptcy with the 
 United States District Court of the Northern District of Illinois. 
 The petition set forth "that on May 1, 1935, the interest of the com- 
 pany's 4% per cent Convertible Bonds of 1949, Scries A, in the sum 
 of $1,717,956.50 became due and jDayable subject to a sixty-day 
 grace period ; and that since funds w-ere not available on June 27, 
 1935, the Board of Directors voted to default on the payment. It 
 was set forth that on December 31, 1935, obligations totaling $29,- 
 464,891.50 would mature. Of this, $11,185,308.50 was for interest. 
 
TRUSTEESHIP AND REORGANIZATION 257 
 
 including tliat already due on the previously mentioned bonds, and 
 $18,279,583 for principal maturities." 
 
 United States District Judge John P. Barnes approved the peti- 
 tion as properly filed and authorized the company to continue opera- 
 tion under the supervision of the court, until further order. Effec- 
 tive October 21, 1935, the court appointed Charles P. Megan trustee 
 of the property of the company. 
 
 Reasons for the petition, as they appeared in press interviews 
 with sundry officials, were hardly necessary. Among the battered 
 industries of the country the experience of the North Western Rail- 
 way was far from unique. 
 
 There was something dishearteningly familiar in the catalogue 
 of trouble: the long continuation of the depression; four years of 
 unprecedented drought in the regions served by the railroad ; in- 
 creased competition with unregulated truck traffic and subsidized 
 air transportation ; inordinately high taxes ; restoration to labor of 
 previously authorized 10 per cent wage cuts, with price of rail- 
 road service limited by law. Appointment of a trustee made little 
 difference in the general state of the country. Business for the rail- 
 roads continued bad. 
 
 Nineteen thirty-seven saw what was probably the worst drought 
 since the first settlers moved westward across the Mississippi River. 
 Corn shriveled not only in the semiarid regions of the Dakota West 
 River country, but in Iowa bottomlands that yesterday had been 
 moist and fertile. Minnesota wheat was parched. And all across 
 Nebraska and all along the Missouri Valley the plains were dusty 
 gray under a shriveling sun in a brassy sky. 
 
 Passenger traffic, however, began to show some recognizable signs 
 of improvement. The 400, the one feature of depression railroad 
 operation that its founders could look at with any degree of pleasure, 
 was still flashing back and forth between Chicago and the Twin 
 Cities with a customer in every seat. The diesel-powered streamliners 
 operated jointly with the Union Pacific Railroad Company between 
 Chicago and Denver, Los Angeles and Portland and, with the Union 
 Pacific and Southern Pacific to San Francisco, were booked up weeks 
 in advance. These trains, together with low-fare limiteds of the 
 Challenger type, produced an increase of 22 per cent in passenger 
 revenue. 
 
THE LAST I- A P 
 
 This and otliir factors made it possible to show a little gain over 
 19.'35. The deficit in net income was $9,674,005 as against last year's 
 deficit of $11,070,;548. 
 
 Hearings before the Interstate Commerce Commission on a plan 
 of financial reorganization under Section 77 of the Bankruptcy Act 
 began in Sej)teniber, 193G, and continued from time to time. At the 
 December, 1937, hearing, the company filed an amended plan which 
 had been approved by the Board of Directors in October. The I^ife 
 Insurance Group Committee and the Mutual Savings Bank Group 
 Committee opposed this plan vigorously and filed their own pro- 
 posed plan of reorganization for the company. 
 
 The two hearing examiners of the Interstate Commerce Commis- 
 sion's Bureau of Finance, at their own suggestion and in order to 
 aid in expediting the proceeding, prepared and filed a memorandum 
 concerning certain features of the proposed plan of reorganization. 
 The memorandum suggested a total capitalization of $468,000,000 
 and concluded as follows : 
 
 It is suggested that not less than one share of new common stock be 
 issued for each 5 shares of existing preferred stock and that not less 
 than one share of new common stock be issued for each 10 shares of ex- 
 isting common stock, in recognition of the existing equity of the holders 
 of those classes of stock in the property. 
 
 Considerable time was consumed in the preparation of briefs and 
 oral arguments and in the presentations of the views and pleas of 
 the various interested groups and parties. It was not until April 18, 
 19,39, that the report of the Interstate Commerce Commission's ex- 
 aminers in the North Western case was released. This report found 
 the equity of the preferred and common stockholders to be without 
 value. On December 12, 1939, the Commission approved a reorgani- 
 zation plan under which debt was chopped from $366,210,000 to 
 $210,161,000, and fixed charges were slashed 75 per cent — to $3,- 
 934,000. There was also contingent interest of $4,728,000 and divi- 
 dend requirements on tlie new preferred of $5,349,000 a year. The 
 Commission approved the finding of the examiners to the effect that 
 the holders of the "investment type" preferred and common stock 
 (in the lush twenties these shares sold at $150 for preferred and at 
 $108 for common) were to be wi})ed out. 
 
TRUSTEESHIP AND REORGANIZATION 259 
 
 Of course there ensued a new flood of petitions. District Judge 
 Barnes and learned counsel for all sides spent a weary and perspir- 
 ing summer (1940) in court. There is nothing duller or drier than 
 presentation, testimony, and argument in such cases. On September 
 11, the court filed an opinion finding that the plan met the require- 
 ments of the statute. The road and eight other parties appealed. In 
 January, 1941, the Interstate Commerce Commission asked accep- 
 tance or rejection by the creditors on vote. The plan won, and in 
 May the Conmiission certified the result of the vote to the District 
 Court. The road, fighting for its preferred and common stockholders, 
 sought a stay from the Circuit Court of Appeals. This was denied. 
 On June 27, a decree confirming the plan was entered by Judge 
 Barnes. The case was carried to the Circuit Court of Appeals which, 
 in an opinion handed down in February of 1942, approved Judge 
 Barnes's findings and confirmed the plan. 
 
 The North Western and the other interested parties petitioned 
 the Supreme Court of the United States for writs of certiorari to 
 the Circuit Court. That took time, as do all cases so headed. On 
 April 19, 1943, the Supreme Court denied the petition but granted 
 motions for leave to supplement the record. The road then went 
 back into the District Court seeking leave to file a petition to remand 
 the proceedings to the Interstate Commerce Connnission for a modi- 
 fication of the plan. In denying the motion. Judge Barnes (April 27, 
 1943) said: 
 
 I tliought the plan was good. I still think it is good. It is very fortu- 
 nate that the road is accumulating some cash wherewith to meet the ob- 
 ligations of the plan, give it a good start upon what we hope will be a 
 long course of prosperity and long life. ... * 
 
 There is no reason that I can see, why I should change the plan, and 
 certainly no overpowering reason to cause me to appear to overrule the 
 Circuit Court of Appeals of this Circuit, and the Supreme Court of the 
 United States. 
 
 The road, still fighting, sought a rehearing of the petitions for 
 writs of certiorari and for a rehearing before the District Court. 
 The Supreme Court denied both sets of petitions. The road then be- 
 sought a reopening of the case by the Interstate Commerce Com- 
 
 * The war was on, and all railroads were busv as beavers. 
 
260 THE LAST LAP 
 
 mission, which was also denied. On July 1, 1943, under the Urgent 
 Deficiencies Act, the road sought to set aside approval of the Com- 
 mission's plan. The three-judge court, convened in accordance with 
 that act, held tliat the Circuit Court of Appeals had exclusive juris- 
 diction to review decisions in bankruptcy matters and pointed out 
 the fact that the earnings and cash position of the road had im- 
 proved and that this condition had been forcefully called to the 
 attention of the appellate tribunals. The court entered a decree dis- 
 missing the bill of complaint, and on December 20 the Supreme Court 
 affirmed the decision. The fight was over and done with. 
 
 During the nine years that it took to complete the North West- 
 ern's reorganization, three sole trustees of the property of the 
 debtor (the term used for a financially embarrassed corporation in 
 Section 77) served under court appointment. These were Charles P. 
 Megan, appointed October 3, 1935, who took office on October 21. 
 Megan served until May of 1939, when he resigned to devote his en- 
 tire attention to his law practice. He was succeeded by Charles ]M. 
 Thomson, former judge of the Appellate Court of Illinois and trus- 
 tee of the Chicago and Eastern Illinois Railroad when that organi- 
 zation had its own spell of difficulties. Judge Thomson remained as 
 trustee of the North Western until his death December 30, 19-13 — 
 just ten days after the United States Supreme Court put an end 
 to the fight against the reorganization plan. Claude A. Roth fol- 
 lowed Judge Thomson and was serving as trustee on June 1, lO-i-i, 
 wjicn the consummation order went into effect, and title to the North 
 Western was vested in the reorganized company — whereupon Row- 
 land "Bud" Williams, chief executive officer of the road since 1939, 
 was elected president. 
 
C/u 
 
 lapter^ 33 
 
 "BUD" WILLIAMS TAKES OVER 
 
 There was nothing accidental about the appearance of Rowland L. 
 Williams ("Bud" to his friends) as chief executive officer of the 
 North Western in 1939 at a time when the company was in the mid- 
 dle of its reorganization procedure. Williams came to the North 
 Western with thirty-six years of railroad experience behind him. 
 He had been known for many years in the Middle West as a practical 
 railroad man. But he was more than that. He was generally reputed 
 to be one of the top-ranking railroad analysts in the United States. 
 
 Like many of his contemporaries and predecessors, Williams came 
 up the hard way ; the knowledge and experience gained in each rail- 
 road job held, plus some extra qualities of initiative and drive, hold- 
 ing him in good stead for one promotion after another. 
 
 He was born in 1888 in the small town of Salem, Illinois, where 
 farming and railroading were the principal occupations. The son 
 of an insurance salesman of moderate means, Williams got his edu- 
 cation in the local schools and at the age of fifteen decided to go to 
 work. He selected railroading not because of any outside influences 
 but because he thought his chances were best in that direction. 
 
 Williams took a summer job as messenger boy for the Baltimore 
 and Ohio Southwestern (now B & O) in 1903 with no remuneration 
 except the privilege of learning telegraphy. He went back to school 
 that winter but the following summer returned to his job for a 
 salary of five dollars a month. Within the next three years he did 
 a stint as freight and yard clerk, then as telegrapher, and in 1907 
 switched allegiance, for a raise in salary, to the Chicago and Eastern 
 Illinois Railroad. Williams was destined to stay with the C & E I 
 for the next thirty-two years. 
 
 Those years, however, were the ones in which he absorbed a great 
 261 
 
THE LAST LAP 
 
 deal of iiiforinntion on tlic ramifications of rail transportation. He 
 held a variety of positions, each one better than the lust. He was 
 first an operator, then trans])ortation timekeeper, division chief 
 accountant, assistant chief clerk, and then chief clerk to the division 
 superintendent, chief clerk to the division engineer, chief statistician, 
 and special representative of the president. In 19.'}2 he was promoted 
 to assistant to president only to move up afraiii, four years latir, to 
 executive %'ice-president. 
 
 The variety of positions he held hi-oui^lit him in contact with all 
 phases of operations on the C & E I, including its financial structure. 
 When the C & E I landed in the Federal courts after failing to 
 weather the great depression of the 1930's, Williams obtained still 
 more experience on the problems of railroad reorganization. 
 
 He was executive vice-president of the C & E I when the North 
 Western called to him in 1939 to take over as chief executive officer. 
 Fred W. Sargent had resigned in June of that year with the illness 
 that was to cause his death a few months later. Taking over the helm 
 of the North Western was undoubtedly a unique experience for Wil- 
 liams, who admits that up to that time he had never set foot on the 
 property. But it was also a challenge that was to require him to 
 draw deep on his knowledge of railroad matters. With the return of 
 the railroad to private management, Williams on June 1, 1944, was 
 elected president of the North Western. 
 
 When Williams came to the North Western he knew he had a job 
 on his hands. On the one hand operating costs had to be kept down 
 and reduced wherever possible; at the same time every effort was 
 to be made to get new business. The first thing he did was to review 
 the property, personally as well as through detailed reports sub- 
 mitted to him. 
 
 Out of this survey came what he calls his "house cleaning" pro- 
 gram. He ordered the tearing up of a lot of unprofitable and un- 
 necessary trackage. Some of the company's branch lines had served 
 their purpose in the horse-and-buggy days of the Middle West. They 
 had done their job well, but had been staggering on more or less use- 
 lessly since the advent of the Model-T Ford. There was no longer 
 any purpose or profit in maintaining a one-train-daily passenger 
 service on short branch lines whose potential customers were all 
 automobile owners. There were longer stretches so expensive to main- 
 
"bud" WILLIAMS TAKES OVER 263 
 
 tain and operate that freight competition against the new truck 
 lines would have cost more than the rewards gained thereby. 
 
 One branch line after another, and hundreds of side tracks and 
 spurs all over the map were pulled up after careful study showed 
 Williams this was the action to take. Thirty-five miles of track was 
 pulled up by the end of 1939; 50 by 1940; 101. by 1941; 162 by 
 1942; and 266 by 1943. These figures do not include a total of 557 
 miles of unnecessary side tracks. But the "house cleaning" went even 
 further. Since 1939, 195 freight and passenger depots have been 
 removed along with 634 other station buildings, 577 shop buildings, 
 1,118 minor structures, and 1,226 miles of right-of-way fence. Wil- 
 liams was determined to streamline the railroad as well as its trains. 
 
 Williams had watched with approval the performance of the 
 streamliners City of Portland, City of San Francisco, City of Los 
 Angeles, and City of Denver, which were operated in cooperation 
 with connecting lines to the West. He also saw, in 1939, the great 
 enthusiasm with which the streamliner Twin Cities Ji.00 was received. 
 Orders were placed for more equipment of the JfOO type, which was 
 delivered and placed into service only a few weeks after the attack 
 on Pearl Harbor. 
 
 Williams was convinced that the customers would pay for the 
 comfort, safety, and dependability of his sleek diesel-powered green 
 and yellow streamliners. In 1941 the Twin Cities 400 brought in 
 $1,263,905, an increase of $162,689 over 1940. The new 400 fleet 
 placed in service in January of 1942 to serve southern Minnesota, 
 Wisconsin, and upper Michigan brought an additional rush of 
 patrons. "All these trains," says the report for that year, "have 
 been most favorably accepted by the public and carried a very heavy 
 traffic and contributed greatly to increased revenues." 
 
 Of course the war with its heavy movement of troops, families vis- 
 iting loved ones in widely scattered military and naval bases, gas 
 rationing, and the tight tire situation were principal contributors to 
 the crowding of railroad stations. But even so, the popularity' of 
 the streamliners was easy to see, for these were the trains on which 
 reservations and accommodations were in greatest demand. 
 
 The heavy war traffic helped the North Western considerably, 
 just as it helped all railroads, bus lines, and air lines. But this im- 
 petus of new business, coming unexpectedly' on the heels of the North 
 
264 THE LAST LAP 
 
 Western's reorganization, gave it extra hope in facing tlie future. 
 After tlic war the "recession" forecast by some people failed to ar- 
 rive. North Western's operating revenues for 1947 were the largest 
 in the history of the company. 
 
 Operating revenues are not profits, liowever. The war period as 
 well as the years following can be characterized as an era of spiral- 
 ing costs in materials, supplies, and labor. Taxes, too, took a tre- 
 mendous portion of North Western's earnings into state and Fed- 
 eral coffers. 
 
 What is the answer.'' Williams is an active proponent of the theory 
 tiiat the railroads can save themselves if they are allowed to. He is 
 also convinced that overcomplicated Federal regulation of the rail- 
 roads isn't doing them and — therefore — the nation any good. In a 
 top national magazine he pointed out the essential trouble with the 
 railroads — he makes no distinction because they are all in the same 
 galley. They are allowed to make 3 per cent or less on a capital in- 
 vestment of twent^'-seven billion dollars. They are among the poor- 
 est earners in industry and, he observes bleakly, some of them are 
 going broke. This in a lush period of dollar-a-pound butter and cus- 
 tomers' lines in front of the automobile agencies. 
 
 Williams is surprised that there are so many people who still 
 seriously think it would be a good plan to nationalize the railroads. 
 He wonders how anyone could overlook the time the government ran 
 the trains during the first World W^ar. That experiment, he points 
 out, cost the taxpaj'ers about two million dollars a day in deficits 
 and, in addition, saw one of the greatest snarls of freight cars in 
 history. In World War II the railroads were left to run their own 
 business. The result was that they handled more men of the armed 
 forces than most folks believed possible, hauled their civilian passen- 
 gers without much difficulty, did the biggest freight transporting 
 job in all history, and to top it aU, paid out more than three million 
 dollars a day in taxes. 
 
 He is against government bonuses or subsidies or other paternal- 
 istic largess. All the railroads need, or want, he says, is a recognition 
 of the right to earn a living. He is not opposed to high wages for 
 employes if the cmplo^'ers are allowed to get enough money out of 
 their operations to pay the wages without going into bankruptcy. 
 But when railroads are getting a .'3 per cent return wliile otlirr ])ul)lic 
 
WILLIAMS TAKES OVER 
 
 utilities are earning 8 per cent and manufacturing generally is 
 averaging 17 per cent, something is definitely wrong with the gov- 
 ernment regulations that permit such a disparity. 
 
 A case in point is that concerning the new freight car which costs 
 in the neighborhood of $4<,500. Williams believes railroads should be 
 permitted to set aside enough funds to replace worn-out equipment. 
 Yet the government permits setting aside a depreciation fund only 
 at the rate of about .$1,800 per freight car, since that was what an 
 old freight car cost some thirty years ago when it was purchased 
 new. Somewhere it has to dig up $2,700 in new money or it doesn't 
 get its new freight car. 
 
 That also holds true in any modernization a railroad may at- 
 tempt. It must be progressive if it is to stay in the transportation 
 picture, yet it costs money to conduct research, build new modern 
 passenger stations, and make its plant efficient enough so that it can 
 compete with other forms of transportation. 
 
 As for the North Western, Williams maintains that only constant 
 improvement and a constant increase in operating efficiency have 
 kept it alive. Service is better and faster, but most of the things that 
 go into it cost the railroad twice as much as they did in 1929. True, 
 the improved equipment results in better performance — it just has 
 to be that way. He points out that an average trainload in 1929 
 was 1,536 gross tons as against 2,288 gross tons in 1947. 
 
 Williams is a determined railroad man but he is no zealot. He is 
 interested in any and all improvements in rail transportation, pro- 
 vided those improvements are real in the sense that they will pay 
 their own way. His interest in progress, however, goes beyond the 
 confines of railroads. He has a refreshing curiosity in foreign fields 
 of endeavor, such as television or industries that are producing com- 
 paratively new products. His interest goes to people, which is un- 
 doubtedly one of the reasons why he has a host of friends and ac- 
 quaintances throughout the country. And he has real faith in the 
 youth of the nation. Recently he had this to say about the oppor- 
 tunities for }'oung men and women: 
 
 Despite appearances to the contrary, the road to success and happi- 
 ness for young men and women embarking on their life careers is still 
 the same road it has alwavs been. As long as we think and act like human 
 
2C6 THE LAST LAP 
 
 beings, the formula for success, wliidi includes liapj)incss, will never 
 clmnfcc. Its elements require seleetion of work the individual will enjoy; 
 incentive, or the quality of wanting something sufficiently to work hard 
 to attain it; initiative, or the willingness to accept increasing responsibili- 
 ties; and, finally, courage to "take a chance" when opportunity knocks. 
 These are the elements that have helped make America great. Our young 
 men and women who use them honestly will find that their success will 
 be as enduring as the American way of life. 
 
-■ ■ ■ ■ -^^fy^^r.!!:,... ■■^..■$',c.^'?t?jl 
 
 tJ/art LJuj/it 
 
 CENTURY OF SERVICE 
 
C/u 
 
 lapter 34 
 
 NOTES ON A SOUTHPAW RAILROAD 
 
 Up and down through the hierarchy of the Chicago and North West- 
 ern Raihvaj' you can always start an argument about why the trains 
 run on the left-hand side of the road. The one peculiarity that dis- 
 tinguishes this line from all other major railroads in the United 
 States, the mark of rugged individualism that has been noted by 
 railroad historians since the first double track ran out of Chicago, 
 really merits a simple explanation — so you'd think. Unlike other 
 folkways of pioneer Chicago that survive only in old pictures, 
 crumbling letters or the erratic memories of graybeards, this one 
 has been — and still is — out where everybody could look at it and 
 nearly everybody has. Long before now, you might imagine, the 
 archaeologists should have dug up some well-authenticated reason 
 for this phenomenon. But they haven't. The most obvious thing 
 about the North Western is still the most mysterious. 
 
 The first guess of the casual observer is, of course, that old Eng- 
 land, which still stands virtually alone in all the world on the left 
 side of the street, had something to do with it — along with English 
 cash, allegedly invested. Harried researchers, who have gone through 
 all the archives saved on the subject before and since the Great 
 Chicago Fire say no. 
 
 It started off as an accident — is the burden of their song— and it 
 continued as a convenience. And one must admit that they did not 
 arrive at this conclusion without a lot of long, tiresome work. It 
 may be correct. Among the people who have listened to it one finds 
 no great unanimity. 
 
 In a Directory of Industries published by the Chicago and North 
 Western line, one reads this : 
 
 269 
 
270 CENTUnV OF SERVICE 
 
 In speaking of the construction of the Chicago and North Western 
 Railway, tliere is one fact that cannot be omitted — the "North Western" 
 is the only railroad in the United States that is left-handed in its opera- 
 tion, trains running on the left rather than on the right side wherever the 
 road is double tracked. 
 
 Wlien the railroads of the countr\' first started building lines, many 
 of them were financed by English and Dutch capital. The Galena and 
 Chicago Union, parent road of the Chicago and North Western Railway, 
 was one of these. English and Dutch engineers were schooled in left- 
 handed operation and built all roads for that system. Consequently when 
 double tracking was started on what is now the Galena division of the 
 North Western toward Oak Park and West Chicago in 1855, switches and 
 equipment were designed for operation opposite to the right-hand system 
 practiced on all other railroads in the United States today. By 1882 
 double tracking had been started on all three divisions of the road in 
 what is known as the Chicago suburban territory. 
 
 Along with construction and the laying of rails goes the planning of 
 stations and by 1882 many stations in the Chicago area had been built. 
 Since commuters frequently arrive at the station several minutes before 
 train time in the morning and have need for a waiting room while they 
 head for home immediately in the evening, almost all stations were built 
 to serve the track on the in-bound movement. Naturally when other rail- 
 roads were changing to right-hand operation late in the nineteenth cen- 
 tury, the North Western officials had not only the reversing of switches 
 and the changing of their signal system to consider. 
 
 They had also the problem of changing all suburban stations. Since 
 the advantages of right-hand operation were about equalized by the 
 advantages of the left-hand system, the expense of changing was not 
 thought justified. 
 
 That ought to settle the matter. But it doesn't. 
 
 Some North Western men Iiave an entirely different idea. Their 
 principal point is that British capital had no part in the financing 
 of the road in the beginning or at any other time and that no im- 
 ported engineers were required to help Ogdcn lay out the right of 
 way of the Galena and Chicago Union. 
 
 With no local precedent to guide them, the construction crews 
 puslied westward from tlic Chicago terminal, hauling up supplies 
 from behind as the rails went down aliead. They pushed tics, spikes, 
 and strap iron for rails from the riglit side of the flatcars as they 
 
NOTES ON A SOUTHPAW RAILROAD 271 
 
 went ahead, presumably because the surveyors' stakes had been 
 planted on the left. And thus was established an unloading technique. 
 
 The tracks went down, the trains moved, and presently stations 
 were built. But materials still had to be hauled from town and they 
 were still unloaded on the right-hand side as one faced in the out- 
 bound direction. And for convenience the stations were erected close 
 to the stockpiles. 
 
 When it came time to double track there was no place to lay the 
 new line except on the side of the right of way opposite the stations, 
 whose usefulness to inbound passengers was already fairly obvious. 
 The original track, because it was nearer the stations, was given the 
 inbound traffic, and the new rails took what went out. That trains 
 were thus made to run on the left-hand side of the course was, of 
 course, purely incidental. 
 
 Well, maj'be. Ask a dozen railroad men and ^'ou'll get a dozen 
 theories. But no matter how much or how little they were mixed up 
 with the destinies of the Galena and Chicago Union, it isn't possible 
 to rule them out altogether. William Strickland, sent abroad by the 
 Pennsylvania Society for the Promotion of Internal Improvements, 
 brought back a report on English railroading in 1826. Five years 
 later several steam lines were operating on the Atlantic seaboard, 
 and English locomotives were in great demand. 
 
 In 1831 the first John Bidl had gone into the service of the Cam- 
 den and Amboy road. Shortly afterward, another John Bull was 
 pulling trains on the Mohawk and Hudson. And before Ogden got 
 his idea for a railway into the Northwest, British machines were 
 too numerous to be noticed. 
 
 These locomotives were wrapped up in mystery. They arrived 
 with English assemblers and mechanics. English engineers came 
 along to drive them and protect them from the inquisitive eyes of 
 Yankee inventors and designers. 
 
 The secrets, such as they were, got out. Local talent promptly 
 began to discard them. John B. Jervis devised a front truck with 
 two axles and four wheels to replace the British rigid front axle with 
 its two wheels. To the designs of Henry R. Campbell, James Brooks 
 made a locomotive equipped with four drive wheels connected with 
 outside rods. The American locomotive was in business. But it was 
 not yet independent of tradition. 
 
272 CENTunv oi- sehvice 
 
 As in t]ie United States, England's only pattern for railroad 
 operation liad been the business of turnpikes and stagecoaches. In 
 England it was customary for the coachman to sit on the right-hand 
 side of the box so he would have his right hand free to swing the 
 whip. As a corollary he drove on the left-hand side of the road so 
 that he could see his clearance when he had to pass somebody com- 
 ing toward him. 
 
 Thus, when locomotives came onto the English scene they oper- 
 ated on the left side of the right of way — in so far as there was any 
 left side — and the drivers (paralleling the case of stagecoach team- 
 sters), were given a place at the right-hand side of the engine. Engi- 
 neers sit on tlie right-hand side of locomotive cabs to this day. 
 
 Why the United States decided to break away from the road 
 traditions of old England isn't quite clear. Psychologists say that 
 most human beings are right-handed and that there is a tendency 
 among right-handed people to keep to the right. A\liich is probably 
 true. 
 
 England's rule of keeping to the left on the highway was based 
 on the principle every automobile driver knows, that in traffic it's 
 better to see the middle of the road than the edges. It might have 
 been adopted without question by the United States save that the 
 first post roads had no right and left. Like the pioneer rail lines 
 they were single track. To pass somebody else you got off the high- 
 way on whichever side happened to be convenient. Early American 
 drivers acquired the habit of keeping to the right because there was 
 no good reason for doing otherwise. 
 
 With the coming of the automobile and the growing congestion of 
 the cities in the 1900's it was discovered that Americans hadn't been 
 entirely logical in their application of new road rules. Horse driv- 
 ers, engine drivers, and automobile drivers all had been kept in their 
 right-hand seats. And some of them were beginning to find out why 
 the English stage driver had established his odd coaching tradition. 
 It hadn't made so much difference to the locomotive engineers, who 
 didn't have to worry much about steering. And unless they were in 
 an unusual hurry the surviving specimens of horse pilots seldom 
 locked hubs with passing traffic. But the automobile drivers, who had 
 a knack of smashing tiie left-hand fenders that tliev couldn't see, 
 
NOTES ON A SOUTHPAW RAILROAD 273 
 
 raised a protest that echoed across the countr}' and in all parts of 
 Canada except Halifax. 
 
 The steering wheel of the automobile was then moved over to the 
 left-hand side of the car — where it belongs in right-handed traffic 
 movements. The old-fashioned buggy went out of business. And the 
 engineer continued to occupy a seat on the right-hand side of his 
 cab. 
 
 If there was any justification for the changeover of automobile 
 steering apparatus, his perch seems a little illogical except, of 
 course, in the case of a left-handed railroad. 
 
 We seem to be right back where we started from. 
 
 Maj'be the British investors weren't more interested in the Galena 
 and Chicago Union or the Chicago and North Western any more 
 than in any other railroad venture of the sixties and seventies. But 
 it is interesting to study some of the place names that lie in clusters 
 along the right of way between Chicago and Lander, Wyoming, or 
 Perth, IMinnesota, and London, Wisconsin. 
 
 One of j'our present chroniclers was born in Beresford, South 
 Dakota, about the time the railroad was hopefully pushing on in the 
 direction of the Big Bad Lands. The signs on the stations north of 
 Sioux City were all of an age and all bright and new. And three of 
 them appeared in interesting sequence: Hawarden, named for the 
 home of Gladstone; Beresford, titled in honor of Admiral Lord 
 Charles Beresford; and Alcester, so called for Colonel Alcester of 
 the British Army, currently hero of a battle in the Sudan. Not far 
 away was Turton, South Dakota, named for a town in Lancashire, 
 England. And over around the corner in Iowa was Sutherland, keep- 
 ing green the memory of a duke. 
 
 There are plenty of other such evidences of hands across the seas 
 and prairies: Cobden, Minnesota, named in 1886 for the great Eng- 
 lish liberal; Brampton, Michigan, for the English city; Carnarvon, 
 Iowa, for Carnarvon, Wales; Caledonia, Illinois, for poetic Scot- 
 land; Dundee, Illinois, for Dundee; Esmond, South Dakota, for 
 Thackeray's novel; Ivanhoe, Minnesota, for Scott's novel; Glad- 
 stone, Michigan, for the great Gladstone; Seaforth, Minnesota, for 
 the home of the Seaforth highlanders; Mayfair, Illinois, for guess 
 where ; Ipswich, Wisconsin, for Ipswich, England ; Exeter, Iowa, for 
 
C E N T U II Y OK S K R V I C E 
 
 the cathedral city; Guernsey, Iowa, for the island of Guernsey; 
 Avoiidale, Illinois, for the river Avon; Stratford, Wisconsin, for the 
 home of Shakespeare; Argyle, Illinois, for the Scottish Argyle; 
 Bangor, Wisconsin, for IJangor, Wales; Wolsey, South Dakota, for 
 Thomas Cardinal Wolsey. 
 
 And you have Bayfield, Wisconsin, honoring the British officer 
 who first explored the shores of Lake Superior, and Pender and 
 Hartington, both in Nebraska, recalling a pair of English lords who 
 invested in the district if not in the railroad that made the invest- 
 ment worth while. Along the line of the C St P M and 0, the names 
 are strung out as thickly as the stripes on an old school tie: Buxton, 
 Nebraska; Bramhall, South Dakota; Derby, Minnesota; Albany, 
 Wisconsin ; Coleridge, Wisconsin ; Perth, Minnesota ; Eton, Minne- 
 sota. 
 
 There might be noted also Auburn, Wisconsin, named for Gold- 
 smitli's deserted village, and Randolph, Nebraska, which adds to the 
 fame of Randolph Churchill. Afton ("Flow gently . . . among thy 
 green braes") is on the Wisconsin timetable. W^ellington is to be 
 found in Michigan, and Nelson in Illinois. 
 
 One admits, of course, that this roster of familiar names may 
 mean nothing more than the nostalgia of a dozen or more lonesome 
 wanderers from the British Isles. An English engineer, whose name 
 escapes us, laid out much of the original townsite of Sioux City, 
 Iowa. He was going to make another London out of it and he had 
 plans for a near-by industrial district which he was going to call 
 Leeds. 
 
 It is certainly within the range of possibility that his voice may 
 have been heard in the naming of Hawarden, Alcester, and Bercs- 
 ford only a few miles to the north. On the other hand, he had nothing 
 to do with the left-handed operation of the Chicago and North West- 
 ern Railway because a single track is neither right nor left. 
 
 More tangible evidence of England's friendship, if not financial 
 interest, in Will Ogden's railroad is oflTcrcd by Ernest Poole whose 
 family had a part in the building of early Chicago. In Giants Gone 
 he tells of Ogden's difficulties in the panic of 1857. The railroad 
 builder, he recounts, found himself heavily obligated for the debts of 
 his roads, for one of which he alone had endorsed notes totaling one 
 and a half million dollars. At this point, Poole observes, his failure 
 
NOTES ON A SOUTHPAW RAILROAD 275 
 
 would have been inevitable save for his connections abroad. However, 
 it is to be doubted that any "friendships" had an effect on "left- 
 hand" building — which actually began in 1855. 
 
 What one seldom reads in the histories of the period is that Will 
 Ogden was something more than a mousetrap builder waiting for a 
 world to come to his door. He was also an international trade am- 
 bassador — the ubiquitous evangelist of the great Northwest. 
 
 By the early fifties, interest in railroads had begun to sweep 
 Europe as well as the United States, and Ogden was received for 
 what he was — an expert in a new and amazing field of enterprise. He 
 was visited by engineers in France, locomotive makers in Germany, 
 bankers in Holland, and investors in England. 
 
 That he left many friends in the British Isles and that his enthusi- 
 asm for the Northwest had been contagious is obvious in the sequel. 
 Offers of help came quickly when word got abroad that he was in 
 trouble. One man, Poole recounts, tendered all his fortune — a half 
 million dollars. A Scottish laird made a similar gesture of good will 
 and verified it with the deposit of one hundred thousand pounds to 
 Ogden's credit in a New York bank. 
 
 Ogden declined the offers, appealed to the faith of the farmer 
 customers to whom he had sold stock in his railroads, and presently 
 talked himself out of the depression. His English friends presumably 
 wrote him messages of congratulation and went back to running 
 their own railways on the left-hand side of the road. All of which, 
 of course, has little to do with the subject under discussion, but 
 makes an interesting footnote. 
 
a 
 
 hapter 35 
 
 LOCALS AND STREAMLINERS 
 
 If yott believe the maps, the Chic.if^o and North Wostcrn Railway 
 consists of 9,^62 miles of track stretching out across Illinois, Wis- 
 consin, Iowa, Minnesota, and South Dakota into Nebraska and 
 AVj'oming. But a lot of grizzled suburban conductors will argue the 
 point with you. To them the whole system is the cluster of rails hug- 
 ging the North Shore of Chicago, plus the route that follows Ogden's 
 old survey out west of town and some more of the same out Wood- 
 stock way — a hundred miles or so, they calculate it — and they'll tell 
 you that's enough. When you have to run over it five or six times a 
 day, the mileage adds up. 
 
 IManagcment probably will agree with the conductors. It is an 
 axiom of the railroad business that there is little money in short 
 hauls — whether of freight or of passengers. Until the advent of the 
 streamliners there has been a general belief that profits from carr}'- 
 ing passengers are negligible wherever you carry them. Freight is 
 easier to handle and it doesn't make noises about sticking windows 
 or the springs in the red plush seats. 
 
 On the other hand, whether it is profitable or not or a public bene- 
 faction or not, the North Western's suburban service is as much a 
 part of the North Western as the main line up into the iron coun- 
 try. If the railroad is going to be a hundred years old this year — 
 well, so is the suburban service. (The two grew up simultaneously.) 
 And so, one may presume, are some of the customers. Will Ogden 
 may have been reaching out for the farm products of the Rock 
 River, Fox, and Dcs Plaines valleys when he projected the Galena 
 and Chicago Union Railway. But it is liistory that he was presently 
 hauling the former carriage trade into town from Cottage Hill, 
 
 276 
 
LOCALS AND STREAMLINERS 
 
 277 
 
 Aurora, and Cherry Valley at from twenty-five to seventy-five cents 
 a head. 
 
 While considering the manner in which the North Western system 
 helped to bring Minnesota out of the wilderness and brought civili- 
 zation to the trans-Missouri prairies, historians generally overlook 
 what was going on at the railroad's point of origin. It was the subur- 
 ban service that broke the sod in Rogers Park and brought the 
 wealth to Lake Forest and civilization to Evanston and pickle fac- 
 tories to Clybourn Junction. Chicago in 1891 had a population of 
 1,250,000 and save for a couple of cable lines under construction was 
 still traveling about in horsecars. It was the suburban service that 
 made it possible for people to move out into the fresh country air 
 as much as five miles from the center of the city. The suburban ser- 
 vice made possible changes in the horrible housing conditions close 
 to the river. And it gave commuting office workers some sense of 
 punctuality. 
 
 Here is a picture of suburban travel as it was practiced by the 
 hardy pioneers of the seventies. Town dwellers who occasionally went 
 to Winnetka or Palatine just for the ride were generally surprised 
 at the large collections of oil lanterns on the station platforms. 
 Word got around that in railroading the wear and tear on lanterns 
 was terrific and that every switchman had to carry a spare. 
 
 The largest string of lanterns was outside the Davis Street station 
 in Evanston. And a stranger, who inquired about them, discovered 
 that they belonged not to the railroad personnel but to commuters, 
 men who had taken the early morning trains to Chicago. 
 
 "Raymond Park," says the antiquarian who looked into the mat- 
 ter, "was a thickly wooded section in the 1870's, and on an early 
 winter morning, those woods were as dark as the inside of a fireman's 
 glove. . . ." 
 
 So you can see the picture. Father, late as usual, looks up at the 
 cuckoo clock as he scalds his throat with a last quick cup of coffee. 
 In the still, empty air he can hear the engine whistle blowing for 
 Elser's Crossing up there on the other side of Grosse Point. He wipes 
 his mustache, gives Mamma a peck on the check, picks up his lantern, 
 and starts his trek through the black forest to the North Western 
 station. 
 
 Survivors of those fascinating daj's say that the lanterns of com- 
 
278 CENTURY OF SERVICE 
 
 niuters loping over the snow trails for the 7:23 were generally so 
 thick that the woods seemed to be swarming with fireflies. During 
 the day the station attendant would service the lanterns, trimming 
 the wicks, and filling them with oil so that the owners would be able 
 to find their way home in the evening. 
 
 The camaraderie that you used to find aboard transcontinental 
 trains when the journey from Chicago to San Francisco took three 
 or four days is still a part of suburban travel. Everybody rides the 
 same train every weekday for years on end. By a sort of squatter's 
 right he establishes title to his own seat, and this is respected by 
 people who have laid similar claim to seats of their own. In due time 
 he gets to know everybody aboard and all about his family. There 
 is no such clearinghouse for gossip in the world. 
 
 A card game got started on the Waukcgan run thirty years ago 
 and it's been going on ever since. The cards aren't the same, or the 
 card table supplied by the conductor — who isn't the same either — 
 or the upholstery on the plush seats. The game that started out as 
 cinch has gone through some metamorphoses — whist, auction bridge, 
 contract — but the players haven't changed, nor apparently have 
 they ever finished a rubber. 
 
 The society of the suburban trains develops Its pets and bores 
 just like other societies. The late Lew Ferguson, who established a 
 record for endurance as a conductor on the North Shore haul, re- 
 called one old lad who was virtually ostracized because of one bad 
 habit. 
 
 Ferguson observed : "He read his paper too early." 
 
 Amplified, this meant that he was the sort of man who combines 
 his reading with buttered toast and soft-boiled eggs and so had fin- 
 ished his absorption of the morning's news by the time he got to the 
 station. With nothing much to do between Evanston and Chicago 
 it was his custom to flop down alongside somebody who hadn't read 
 his paper and engage in sprightly conversation about his grand- 
 children or his setter dog. 
 
 "He was shunned like the plague by everybody," said Ferguson, 
 "until finally he had nobody to talk to but me. Then I shunned him 
 too." 
 
 The conductors, like the coninniters, are sid generis. They are 
 ])e()ple of great tact, jiatience, and friendliness. And they git to 
 
LOCALS AND STREAMLINERS 279 
 
 learn more about human beings than would ever be possible on one 
 of those long runs where they see the passenger only when he gets 
 on and six hours later when he gets off. There have been times when 
 this intimate knowledge of how people behave has soured them. But 
 usually they are philosophically tolerant. Sometimes the urge to do 
 something for people whose lives are spent shuttling to and from 
 work overpowers them. And on at least one occasion this impulse 
 took a novel form. One conductor on the Milwaukee division figured 
 out that the operating corporation had a lot more money than the 
 poor people who rode the trains. Therefore, it seemed logical that 
 the corporation ought to pay the fare. So, for a couple of years, he 
 made a practice of letting everybody travel free. He would snap his 
 punch at a commutation ticket — but never a ride came off. Eventu- 
 ally the corporation caught up with him and disagreed with his 
 theory. 
 
 Man}' articles reach the lost and found department from the 
 suburban runs. Since the first time a North Western engineer safely 
 piloted his train back from Waukegan, the inbound traveler has 
 heard the conductor bawl his last warning: "Chicago — remember 
 your parcels !" It is as much a slogan of the North Western as 
 "Safety first." But there's more to it than that. The conductor, who 
 knows everybody on his train, is sometimes his own lost and found 
 department. If you forget anything going into town, you get it 
 back on your way home. 
 
 In a fair year the suburban service carries about nineteen million 
 passengers — an expensive, unremitting, and sometimes thankless 
 job. But after a hundred 3'ears of operation it is still one of the 
 dominant factors in Chicago's transportation system, and until 
 somebody discovers what you do with an automobile when you get 
 it into a big city, it is going to be increasingly important. 
 
 While the suburban trains plod their faithful course day in and 
 day out. The J^OO and other high-speed trains flash like comets across 
 the countryside. In an age of speed, the North Western was the first 
 to put superspeed trains on long-distance runs, perhaps because of 
 their experience with the "silk train." 
 
 Almost forgotten, now, is the periodical run of the silk train. It 
 hasn't flashed across the Northwest since the attack on Pearl Har- 
 
280 CENTURY OF SERVICE 
 
 bor, (ind perhaps, thanks to nylon and other artificial fibers, may 
 never be culled upon to make its spectacular dash again. But it gave 
 the world a grand show while it lasted. 
 
 For many years, when there were no imitations worthy of the 
 name, virtually all of America's supply of silk was bought in the 
 Japanese market, and dealing in it entailed many complications. 
 Silk was definitely what you might call a cash crop. There was 
 always a market for it, and the price didn't vary much from year 
 to year. As a medium of barter and exchange it would have had just 
 about the same currency as the gold with which you bought it on 
 the Yokohama exchange. It differed from invested money only in 
 that it bore no interest. 
 
 Therefore, if a producer owned ten thousand yen worth of silk, 
 it behooved him to sell it and get his pay as soon as possible. Other- 
 wise he was losing the interest on ten thousand yen as long as he held 
 it. For the same reason the buyer had to deliver it as quickly as pos- 
 sible to a manufacturer, who didn't let it acquire much age in his 
 stockroom. The bigger the operator, of course, tlie greater his fi- 
 nancial interest in speed. 
 
 So the silk would be purchased in Japan and shipped to America 
 by the shortest route on the fastest available ship. It would be in 
 the slings ready for landing before the ship came to her berth in 
 Seattle and San Francisco. And before the passenger list had been 
 cleared, stevedores would be trundling it into the cars of the waiting 
 silk train. Once the train was loaded, and heavily armed guards 
 mounted, the conductor without further preliminaries waved his hand 
 and hopped aboard. He had the right of way over the Great North- 
 ern tracks all the way to St. Paul and over the Union Pacific to 
 Omaha. 
 
 There was no nonsense involved in this routine. The train on oc- 
 casion might be hauling a shipment worth millions of dollars, on 
 which investment a day's additional interest might be considerable. 
 So the crack limiteds and the red-ball freights got out of the way 
 while a relay of the best locomotives and best train crews on the 
 road rolled their freight across the continent. At Minnesota transfer 
 a North Western locomotive, guards, and crew were waiting to take 
 it to Chicago, and the same procedure took place at Council Bluffs. 
 
 Unfortunatclv the records of the train on the first stage have 
 
LOCALS AND STREAMLINERS 281 
 
 not been published. But it is known that the Chicago and North 
 Western managed to maintain an average speed of around a mile a 
 minute, which experience may well have prompted such innovations 
 as what the trade calls "superspeed trains." On January 2, 1935, 
 the North Western put the first ^00 on the Twin City run — the fast- 
 est train for such a distance in the world. 
 
 The performance astonished operations experts on other roads 
 because it involved no radically designed equipment. Four Pacific- 
 type locomotives were taken into the Chicago shops and refitted with 
 79-inch drive wheels at a cost of fourteen thousand dollars each. 
 Tenders were equipped to carry 15,000 gallons of water and 5,000 
 gallons of oil — enough for a nonstop trip. The train was made up 
 of all-steel cars, not radically different in design from cars on other 
 crack trains. The ensemble was called The Ji-OO because it is about 
 400 miles to St. Paul, and the scheduled running time was slightly 
 less than 400 minutes. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the initial time was seven hours from Chicago 
 to St. Paul. This was reduced a half an hour in the first six months, 
 and from then on the train regularly ran 409 miles in 390 minutes, 
 a little better than an average of 60 miles an hour. 
 
 The IfiO was the fastest train between starting point and terminus 
 in America. As the first train on the continent to run at high speeds 
 for sustained periods on scheduled runs, it set new standards for 
 much of the country's passenger train service. The diesel-powered 
 streamliners, the City of San Francisco and the City of Los Angeles, 
 run in cooperation with the Union Pacific and Southern Pacific, 
 have also been pace-setters. 
 
Ci 
 
 lapter 36 
 
 THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS 
 ARE THE HARDEST 
 
 The North Westekx's most spectacular contribution to recent 
 railroading was its demonstrations, begun in 19.'55, that superspeed 
 trains are not only feasible but profitable. The success of the first 
 J^OO was the success of every streamliner that has come since, revolu- 
 tionizing the country's passenger service and making possible such 
 luxuries as the daily Cliij of San Francisco. But it wasn't the com- 
 pany's first newsworthy innovation, or the most important. 
 
 When, in 1863, a North Western freight conductor stuck his head 
 through the hole in the roof of his damaged caboose and discovered 
 that he had an excellent view of his train ahead, he was inadvertently 
 demonstrating that safety innovations are not always premeditated. 
 The view through the caboose roof gave the conductor an idea; he, 
 in turn, transmitted it to officei-s at the railroad's nearest car shops 
 where new cabooses were a-buildiiig. The results were apparent a 
 few weeks later when the first cabooses with cupolas rolled off the 
 line. The cupola has been a caboose characteristic until recent years, 
 when boxcars got too high. Bay windows that permit a view along- 
 side the train are taking the place of the sun parlor on top. But the 
 principle is the same, and still sound. 
 
 The North Western was the first railroad to run sleeping cars 
 west of Chicago (1858); the first, in conjunction witli the Union 
 Pacific and Central Pacific, the latter now the Southern Pacific, to 
 carry dining cars between Chicago and San Francisco (1869); the 
 first to install a permanent railway post-office service (1864'); the 
 m;unif;u-turer of the first railway post-office cars for the United 
 
THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS ARE THE HARDEST ZOd 
 
 States Government (1865). But what is more significant than all 
 of this is the fact that in 1857 — eight years after the running of its 
 first train — the railroad was tlie first in the West to operate by tele- 
 graph. 
 
 In 1910 Ralph C. Richards, general claim agent for the railroad, 
 took the phrase "Safety first" and sent it on its way to become the 
 slogan of the thoughtful and the careful all over the United States. 
 He had previously written a book called Railroad Accidents, Their 
 Caiise and Prevention, setting forth tlie thesis that accidents are the 
 result of a chain of circumstances that can be stopped at the begin- 
 ning. The nation's railroads were interested, but it was the North 
 Western that first set up a department dedicated to safety and the 
 prevention of crippling mishaps. 
 
 Richards's demonstration that it was possible to reduce worka- 
 day casualty lists through organized effort led, in 1912, to the 
 formation of the National Safety Council. On this subject the Coun- 
 cil is now one of the final authorities in the United States. 
 
 In 1913 the rate of casualties of all sorts, nonfatal as well as 
 fatal, was about 39 for each million man-hours. Thirty years later 
 the rate was below 12 casualties for each million man-hours. This 
 was about the same as 400 working years. As it is now, a railroad 
 employee has one chance of a fatal accident every 4,000,000 man- 
 hours or roughly 1,600 working years. 
 
 In 1948 the National Safety Council honored the North Western 
 with a special Council award for exceptional service to safety. The 
 certificate presented to R. L. Williams, president of the railway, by 
 Ned H. Dearborn, president of the Council, bore this citation: "A 
 pioneer in safety, the Chicago and North Western has steadfastly 
 sought over the years to protect its passengers and employees from 
 accidents, with conspicuous success." 
 
 The railway has a far better than average record in the Railroad 
 Employees National Safety Contest conducted annually by the 
 Council. Since the first contest in 1927, it has won five first-place 
 awards, and while its safety record did not stand high consistently 
 every year, it has achieved an employee accident rate over the past 
 twenty years 26 per cent better than the average for all Class 1 
 railroads. 
 
 Among the safety firsts of recent years credited to the North 
 
284 CENTURY OF SERVICE 
 
 Western is the development of the Mars light, a powerful beam that 
 oscillates with a figure-eight motion at the front of a train. This 
 light changes to red automatically, and a similar red light goes 
 on at the rear of the train, whenever the train makes an emergency 
 stop or the engineer releases air-brake pressure to a certain point. 
 The development of the oscillating light goes back to 1936 when it 
 was first installed on the high-speed JfOO. Like many inventions, the 
 light had many "bugs" in it, but operating officials saw great prom- 
 ise in its possibilities. They worked patiently on the "gadget" in 
 the face of disinterest by other railroads. Theirs and the manufac- 
 turer's efforts were rewarded when they finally got the light per- 
 fected to its present state so that it would be an advance warning 
 to all of the onrush of a fast train, as well as a "stop" order to all 
 other trains when the light turned red. 
 
 "This is an important development in the art of railroading," says 
 C. H. Longman, vice-president in charge of operations. "It's purpose 
 is to protect trains making emergency stops from rear end collisions 
 or, in the event of derailment, from being sidcswipcd by trains on 
 other tracks. The red lights operate instantaneously, should the 
 engineer apply the brakes or throw a control switch, or should an 
 air hose part between cars. The lights serve as stop warnings to 
 trains approaching from either direction. They are visible for sev- 
 eral miles on a clear night and have a long range in daylight." 
 
 All North Western through and suburban trains have been 
 equipped with these lights front and rear. It is interesting to note 
 that the usefulness of the lights has reached beyond the confines of 
 the North Western to the point that scores of crack trains of many 
 of the nation's railroads now flash the oscillating lights. 
 
 Another of the railroad's striking efforts to make life safe for 
 passengers as well as freight was the completion in 1928 of the first 
 large-scale system of continuous automatic train control. The in- 
 stallation between Chicago and Council Bluffs on the railroad's 
 high-speed heavy-density main line cost two and a half million dol- 
 lars and was looked upon by old-time railroad men as a species of 
 black magic. Through electronic relays the control permits trains 
 to go no faster than a previously set maximum. But it docs more than 
 that. It permits discarding of wayside signals by installation of 
 those same signals rigiit in the engineer's cab. The control constantly 
 
THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS ARE THE HARDEST ^iHS 
 
 tells the engineer through those signals what the condition of the 
 track ahead may be, day or night and in all kinds of weather. At 
 times it signals the engineer to reduce speed or stop. If the engineer 
 fails to respond, it gives him a leeway of a few seconds, and then 
 moves in to do the job for him. It is one of the miracles that have 
 made American railroads consistently the safest mode of transpor- 
 tation in the world. 
 
 When you stand in the concourse of the Chicago and North West- 
 ern Railway terminal in Chicago, you are probably in closer touch 
 with distant places than anywhere else on earth. Here, during the 
 summer months when resort travel is at its peak, you can board a 
 train and without changing cars or leaving the North Western sys- 
 tem's tracks you can ride to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan; to 
 the North Woods of Wisconsin ; to Duluth, gateway to IMinnesota's 
 Arrowhead recreation country ; across Wisconsin, Minnesota, and 
 South Dakota to the Black Hills ; across Northern Illinois, Iowa 
 and Nebraska into the Black Hills ; or straight west to Lander, Wy- 
 oming, in the foothills of the Grand Tetons. And certainly without 
 leaving your car and almost without getting out of your seat, you 
 can travel over North Western and connecting lines across the 
 Canadian border to Banff, Lake Louise, and Vancouver; to Yellow- 
 stone Park, Sun Valley, and the Pacific Northwest ; to the Grand 
 Canyon, Bryce Canyon, Zion National Park, Kaibab National For- 
 est ; or you can go directly to Denver and Portland and San Fran- 
 cisco and Los Angeles. And aboard the new streamliners you can go 
 with speed and comfort. 
 
 The little strap-rail track that ran out of Chicago toward Cot- 
 tage Hill over the Galena and Chicago Union road has stretched a 
 lot since 1848. Today, even after the removal of duplicate lines and 
 unprofitable spurs, it consists of 14,158.65 miles of track (including 
 double track) and 9,3.32.91 miles of road. 
 
 William Butler Ogden's first equipment of a few cars has length- 
 ened into a train of 52,700 cars of all classes. And the little old third- 
 hand Pioneer has turned out to be the great-grandfather of 1,242 
 locomotives, including 165 diesels, the latter an unheard-of breed 
 of power 100 years ago. 
 
 To Chicago's gates the North Western brings a varied wealth 
 
286 CENTURY OF SEHVICE 
 
 from a vast productive land: wheat, corn, oats, flour, hay, straw, 
 alfalfa, citrus and other fruits, potatoes, vegetables ; livestock, poul- 
 tr}', fresh meat, eggs, butter, cheese; coal, coke, iron ore, crude 
 petroleum, gravel, sand, crushed stone; logs, pulpwood, lumber; 
 gasoline, sugar, syrup, cement, brick, autos, trucks, tires, parts ; 
 beverages, canned foods, iron and steel, paper. In 19-i7 the total 
 tonnage was : 
 
 Agricultural products 10,638,384 
 
 Animals and pro(Uicts 1 ,!)()8, 13G 
 
 Products of mines 23,474,037 
 
 Forest products 5,701 ,871 
 
 Manufactures 18,145,984 
 
 Operating revenue of $207,660,480 in 1947 was the greatest in the 
 system's history. 
 
 The old Icft-lmndcd railway has had an interesting if somewhat 
 difficult century. It has fought with bankers, with legislatures, with 
 courts, with drought, floods, blizzards, and Federal tax-makers. One 
 of the most powerful influences in the development of the country 
 between Chicago and the Black Hills to the west and Lake Superior 
 to the north, it must now be appraised by a generation that never 
 saw an Indian or a virgin prairie. It must go on and on meeting new 
 competition, new restrictions, new taxes and costs. But at any rate 
 it has what the engineers call the "habit of existence." It has sur- 
 vived financial panics and wars as well as prairie fires and Sioux 
 massacre. It has learned to work its miracles in adversity. 
 
 If there is any truth to the fact that history repeats itself, ahead 
 of it the railroad must face still more adversities. It must face them 
 because it has become so important in the economy of the people of 
 the Middle West that it is unthinkable for it to stop. The men at 
 its helm aren't thinking of stopping because they are purchasing 
 new and better locomotives, expanding its fleet of freight and passen- 
 ger cars, rebuilding or remodeling its stations, and in hundreds of 
 other ways demonstrating that the railroad intends to be a charac- 
 teristic of the Middle West's terrain for a long time to come. 
 
 Unlike its existence in the early days when it was the only railroad 
 in the Middle West, today it competes vigorously with many other 
 lines as well as with other forms of transportation for tlie patronage 
 
THE FIRST HUNDRED YEARS ARE THE HARDEST ZOV 
 
 of the public. A century ago it pioneered in a wilderness ; in future 
 years it must pioneer to hold its own. AVliatever its future holds out, 
 the railroad's directorate, perhaps, is justified in the belief that 
 the first hundred years are the hardest. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 PRESIDENTS OF CHICAGO AND NORTH 
 WESTERN RAILWAY COMPANY 
 
 Name Date elected 
 
 William B. Ogden June 7, 1859 
 
 Henry Keep June 4, 1868 
 
 Alexander Mitchell Sept. 1, 1869 
 
 John F. Tracy June 3, 1870 
 
 Albert Keep June 19, 1873 
 
 Marvin Hughitt June 2, 1887 
 
 William A. Gardner Oct. 20, 1910 
 
 Richard H. Aishton May 23, 1916 
 
 WUliam H. Finley June 11, 1918 
 
 Fred W. Sargent June 23, 1925 
 
 R. L. Williams July 25, 1939 * 
 
 June 1, 1944 t 
 
 * Chief executive officer for trustee. 
 
 t President. 
 
 PRESIDENTS OF GALENA AND CHICAGO 
 UNION RAILROAD COMPANY 
 
 Name Date elected 
 
 Theophilus W. Smith July 3, 1836 
 
 Elijah K. Hubbard Nov. 29, 1837 
 
 James H. Collins Dec. 29, 1845 
 
 William B. Ogden Feb. 17, 1846 
 
 John B. Turner June 5, 1851 
 
 Walter L. Newberry June 1, 1859 
 
 William H. Brown June 4, 1862 
 
 John B. Turner June 1, 1864 
 
 BRIEF HISTORY OF CHICAGO AND NORTH 
 WESTERN'S CHICAGO PASSENGER STATIONS 
 
 Station No. 1 
 
 1848: Built in fall of this year just south of Kinzie Street and just west 
 of Canal Street a few feet west of current location of bridge crossing 
 North Branch of Chicago River at Kinzie Street. Depot which was 
 289 
 
2i)0 APPENDIX 
 
 Cliicago's first railroad station ran east and west with railroad tracks 
 along soutli side of building. In I848 station had one story. Second 
 story added to wooden frame structure in 1819. Used for both freight 
 and passengers by Galena and Cliicago Union Railroad, now part of 
 North Western. Burlington Road also used this station for some time 
 after 1850 as well as tracks from Chicago to West Chicago until it 
 could build its own tracks in Chicago. Building was used by Galena 
 road until 1853 when it was converted to a railroad employee's read- 
 ing room. It was torn down in the 1880's. Bronze plaque today marks 
 site of station. 
 
 Station No. 2 
 
 1853: Galena and Chicago Union built station of brick and stone in 1852- 
 1853 on west side of Wells Street and on north bank of Chicago River. 
 Station was two stories high, running east and west with tracks on 
 south side of station, and with passenger entrance from Wells Street. 
 In 1862—1863 Wells Street was raised about eight feet, the railroad 
 temporarily closing station to make this work possible. At the same 
 time railroad took advantage of closing to add 30 feet to its length 
 and to add a third story. The station remained in use until destroyed 
 by the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. 
 
 St.4tion No. 3 
 
 1854: Built by Illinois and Wisconsin Railroad Company, one of early 
 components of the North Western. Station was of wood with a general 
 shanty appearance, with back to West Water Street if it had been 
 opened north of Kinzie Street, with its gable end toward Kinzie Street, 
 the building running north and south parallel and close to west bank 
 of North Branch of Chicago River. Trains operated northward out of 
 it. Building was torn down in 1856 to make room for a new station 
 (No. 5). 
 
 Station No. 4 
 
 1855: Chicago and Milwaukee Railroad (early component of North 
 Western) operated trains from Chicago northward to Wisconsin state 
 line. In 1855 it built what was then called Milwaukee Passenger Depot. 
 In those days a street known as Dunn ran from West Kinzie north- 
 westerly and along east side of what is now Milwaukee Avenue. North 
 and parallel to Kinzie was a street known as Cook. The one-story 
 wooden building was erected in the triangle formed by Dunn, Cook, 
 and Kinzie streets. Building ultimately passed into hands of North 
 Western. 
 
appendix 291 
 
 Station No. 5 
 
 1856: A pretentious wooden structure with a huge domed train shed was 
 built by the Chicago, St. Paul and Fond du Lac Railroad in place of 
 Station No. 3 which was torn down. With the consolidation of the 
 Chicago and Milwaukee and the Milwaukee and Chicago railroads and 
 ultimately the Galena and Chicago Union, this station was used for 
 all the passenger traffic of those lines which eventually became part of 
 the North Western. It stood just north of Kinzie Street on the west 
 bank of the North Branch of the river. It was known as the Kinzie 
 Street Depot. It was abandoned with the completion in 1881 of the 
 Wells Street Depot (Station No. 8). 
 
 Station No. 6 
 
 1862: In 1851 the Galena road bought land (block 1 of original town of 
 Chicago) on north bank of river just east of Dearborn Street and 
 south of Kinzie. There it erected in 1862 a building two stories high, 
 first stor_v to be used for freight. Because of changing of elevation of 
 Wells Street in 1862 and the temporary closing down of Station No. 2 
 for passenger use for a period of about one year. Station No. 6 was 
 opened to passenger traffic during this period. This building was de- 
 stroyed in the Chicago Fire of 1871. 
 
 Station No. 7 
 
 1871: A wooden structure hastily built by North Western in late fall of 
 1871 to take the place of Station No. 2 which had been destroyed in 
 the Chicago Fire. Its entrance was from Wells Street and its location 
 the same as that of Station No. 2. 
 
 Station No. 8 
 
 1880: Built during years 1880-1881 by North Western, and the railroad's 
 largest Chicago terminal up to that time. Located on corner of Wells 
 and Kinzie streets. Building was of stone with several towers carrying 
 out the elaborate architecture common in that period. First trains ran 
 into it on May 23, 1881. Later an annex for suburban traffic was added 
 to station which was known as Wells Street Depot. It was used until 
 present terminal built in 1911. Wells Street Depot was eventually torn 
 down and in its place the Merchandise Mart was erected. 
 
 Station No, 9 
 
 (911: Built by Chicago and North Western at a cost of approximately 
 twenty-four million dollars, of which about six million dollars was for 
 
292 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Station building and train shed alone. Constructed largely of steel, 
 stone, and concrete, it covers several city blocks with almost three miles 
 of track under its passenger train sheds having a capacity of 229 cars. 
 About 80,000 passengers pass through the station daUy, with this figure 
 often reaching 100,000 during the peak jjcriods of World War II. 
 Building and train sheds are bounded by Madison, Clinton, Lake, and 
 Canal streets witli front of building facing south on Madison Street. 
 Building is only a few hundred feet from site of original station of 
 1848. 
 
 A LIST OF THE DIRECTORS OF THE CHICAGO 
 
 AND NORTH AV E S T E R N RAILWAY C O :M P A N Y 
 
 AND THEIR TERMS OF OFFICE 
 
 From the organization of the company to May 1, 1948 
 
 William B. Ogden June 
 
 Perry H. Smith Juue 
 
 E. W. Hutcliings June 
 
 Charles Butler June 
 
 Thomas H. Perkins June 
 
 Mahlon D. Ogden June 
 
 Alex C. Coventry June 
 
 Henry Smith June 
 
 James R. Young June 
 
 J. J. R. Pease June 
 
 M. C. Darling June 
 
 Albert Winslow June 
 
 George M. Bartholomew June 
 
 H. H. Boody June 
 
 William C. Langley June 
 
 James A. Edgar June 
 
 A. L. Pritchard June 
 
 L. M. Miller June 
 
 Jolun Maxwell June 
 
 William A. Booth June 
 
 T. H. Perkins June 
 
 William II. Dyckman Nov. 
 
 David Dowcs June 
 
 I>owell Ilolbrook June 
 
 C. S. Sey ton June 
 
 '^ror 
 
 I 
 
 
 To 
 
 7 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 4, 1808 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 3, 1809 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 7, 1800 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 0, 1801 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 7, 1800 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 8, 1859 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 8, 1859 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 8. 1859 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 7, 1800 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 Nov. 
 
 17, 1805 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 Aug. 
 
 18, 1804 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 Juue 
 
 0, 1801 
 
 7, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 2, 1804 
 
 8, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 2, 1804 
 
 8, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 7, 1800 
 
 8, 
 
 1859 
 
 June 
 
 7, 1800 
 
 7, 
 
 1800 
 
 June 
 
 3, 1804 
 
 7, 
 
 1800 
 
 June 
 
 0, 1801 
 
 7, 
 
 1800 
 
 June 
 
 6, 1801 
 
 7, 
 
 1800 
 
 June 
 
 2, 1804 
 
 7, 
 
 1800 
 
 Nov. 
 
 23, 1800 
 
 23, 
 
 1800 
 
 June 
 
 6, 1801 
 
 C, 
 
 1801 
 
 June 
 
 5, 1803 
 
 G, 
 
 1801 
 
 June 
 
 2, 1804 
 
 C, 
 
 1801 
 
 Fell. 
 
 18, 1804 
 
 i 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 293 
 
 From 
 
 Austin Baldwin June 6 
 
 George Smith June 6 
 
 George L. Duiilap June 
 
 J. D. Fish June 
 
 Joseph A. Wood June 
 
 WUliam B. Scott Feb. 
 
 James AV. Elwell June 
 
 Samuel J. Tilden June 
 
 William H. Ferry June 
 
 John B. Turner June 
 
 Thomas D. Robertson June 
 
 H. H. Boody June 11 
 
 Lowell Ilolbrook June 11 
 
 William A. Booth June 11 
 
 George i\I. Bartholomew June 11 
 
 A. L. Pritchartl June 11 
 
 Jolui M. Burke Aug. 18 
 
 Benjamin Nathan June 1 
 
 Julien S. Rumsey June 
 
 James D. Fish June 
 
 William B. Scott Nov. 
 
 Samuel Sloan June 
 
 Adrian Islin June 
 
 M. L. Sykes, Jr July 
 
 Henry Keep Nov. 
 
 H. H. Baxter May 15 
 
 James H. Benedict June 
 
 George S. Scott June 
 
 John Bloodgood June 
 
 F. P. James June 
 
 W. S. Gurnee June 
 
 Russell Sage June 
 
 Alexander Mitchell June 
 
 Henry R. Pierson Apr. 
 
 A. G. Dulman June 
 
 J. L. Ten Have June 
 
 John B. Turner June 
 
 John E. Williams Sept. 
 
 Alanson Robinson Oct. 
 
 Charles R. Marvin June 
 
 Harvey Kennedy June 
 
 A. B. Baylis June 
 
 W. L. Scott June 
 
 Milton Courtright June 2 
 
 , 1861 
 , 1861 
 , 1862 
 , 1803 
 , 1803 
 , 180-i 
 , 1864 
 , 1804 
 , 1864 
 , 1804 
 , 1864 
 , 1864 
 , 1864 
 , 1864 
 , 1864 
 , 1864 
 , 1864 
 , 1865 
 , 1865 
 , 1865 
 , 1865 
 , 1807 
 , 1807 
 , 1867 
 , 1807 
 , 1868 
 , 1868 
 , 1868 
 , 1868 
 , 1808 
 , 1868 
 , 1808 
 , 1868 
 , 1809 
 , 1809 
 , 1809 
 , 1809 
 , 1809 
 , 1869 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 
 To 
 June 4 
 June 
 June 
 June 1 
 June 2 
 June 1 
 June 4 
 June 
 June 
 Apr. 
 June 
 May 15 
 June 4 
 June 
 June 6 
 June 4 
 June 
 June 
 June 
 Nov. 25 
 July 22 
 June 3 
 June 4 
 Nov. 11 
 July 11 
 Mar. 10 
 Oct. 6 
 June 
 June 
 June 2 
 June 
 June 
 June 
 June 
 
 Oct. 20 
 Ju 
 
 June 1 
 June 
 June 2, 
 INIar, 
 June C 
 June 
 Sept. 19 
 June 1 
 
 , 1863 
 , 1863 
 , 1871 
 , 1865 
 , 1864 
 , 1865 
 , 1868 
 , 1868 
 , 1869 
 , 1809 
 , 1867 
 , 1808 
 , 1868 
 , 1868 
 , 1807 
 , 1868 
 , 1873 
 , 1870 
 , 1865 
 , 1807 
 , 1867 
 , 1809 
 , 1868 
 , 1902 
 , 1869 
 , 1871 
 , 1809 
 , 1875 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 , 1871 
 , 1890 
 , 1879 
 , 1871 
 , 1870 
 , 1870 
 , 1877 
 , 1878 
 ■, 1877 
 , 1891 
 , 1876 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 From 
 June 2, 1870 
 
 R. P. Flower 
 
 II. II. Porter June 
 
 Jolin F. Tracy June 
 
 David Dowes June 
 
 F. II. Tows June 
 
 William H. Ferry June 
 
 B. F. Allen June 
 
 Albert Keep June 
 
 S. M. Mills June 
 
 James H. Howe June 
 
 John Bloodgood June 
 
 Jay Gould Mar. 
 
 William H. Ferry Mar. 
 
 Sidney Dillon Mar. 
 
 Oliver Ames Mar. 
 
 John M. Burke June 
 
 Marvin Hughitt June 
 
 David Jones June 
 
 Perry H. Smith June 
 
 Frank Work June 
 
 C. J. Osborn June 
 
 D. P. Morgan June 
 
 Augustus Schell June 
 
 Chaiincey M. Depew June 
 
 Samuel F. Barger June 
 
 D.O.Mills June 
 
 Anson Stager June 
 
 F. W. Vanderbilt June 2 
 
 N. K. Fairbank June 7 
 
 II. McK. Twonibly June 5 
 
 J. B. Rcdfield June 5 
 
 W. K. Vanderbilt Sept. 27 
 
 Horace Williams Sept. 2' 
 
 David P. Kimball Sept. 2' 
 
 John I. Blair June 
 
 Percy R. Pyne June 
 
 Frederick L. Ames June 
 
 James C. Fargo June 
 
 Byron L. Smith June 
 
 Oliver Ames II June 
 
 Cyrus II. McCormick June 
 
 James Stillman June 
 
 Zenas Crane June 
 
 Marshall Field Dec. 
 
 1870 
 1870 
 1871 
 1871 
 1871 
 1871 
 1873 
 1875 
 1875 
 1870 
 1877 
 1877 
 1877 
 1877 
 1877 
 1877 
 1878 
 1878 
 1878 
 1878 
 1878 
 1879 
 1879 
 1879 
 1880 
 1881 
 1881 
 1883 
 1884 
 1884 
 1884 
 1884 
 1884 
 1885 
 1886 
 1889 
 1891 
 1892 
 1894 
 1895 
 1895 
 1895 
 1899 
 
 June 
 
 June 
 
 Mar. 
 
 June 
 
 Mar. 
 
 Mar. 
 
 June 
 
 May 
 
 June 
 
 June 
 
 June 
 
 Sept. 
 
 Jime 
 
 Sept. 
 
 June 
 
 June 
 
 Jan. 
 
 June 
 
 June 
 
 June 
 
 Nov. 
 
 June 
 
 Mar. 
 
 Apr. 
 
 Oct. 
 
 June 
 
 Nov. 
 
 June 
 
 Nov. 
 
 Jan. 
 
 Sept. 
 
 July 
 
 Aug. 
 
 Aug. 
 
 Dec. 
 
 Feb. 
 
 Sept. 
 
 Feb. 
 
 Mar. 
 
 June 
 
 Jan. 
 
 Mar. 
 
 Dec. 
 
 Jan. 
 
 To 
 5, 
 6, 
 3, 
 7, 
 3, 
 3, 
 3, 
 
 20, 
 C, 
 C. 
 6, 
 
 27, 
 5, 
 
 27, 
 7, 
 6, 
 6, 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 295 
 
 From 
 
 Henry C. Frick Nov. 11, 1902 
 
 Frank Work Nov. 11, 1002 
 
 Chauncey Keep Feb. 19, 1906 
 
 E. E. Osborn Oct. 17, 1907 
 
 John V. Farwell Oct. 21, 1909 
 
 Homer A. Miller Oct. 21, 1909 
 
 W. A. Gardner Apr. 13, 1910 
 
 William K. Vanderbilt, Jr Apr. 12, 1911 
 
 Harold S. Vanderbilt May 4, 1914 
 
 Edward M. Hyzer June 8. 1915 
 
 Richard H. Aishton May 2.S, 191G 
 
 Edmund D. Hull)ert Feb. 26, 1918 
 
 Henry C. McEldowney Apr. 9, 1918 
 
 William H. Finley June 11, 1918 
 
 ChUds Frick Apr. 8, 1919 
 
 James A. Stillman Apr. 8, 1919 
 
 Samuel A. Lynde Apr. 8, 1919 
 
 Gordon Abbott Apr. 13, 1920 
 
 James B. Sheean Oct. 14, 1920 
 
 MarshaU Field HI Feb. 8, 1921 
 
 Albert A. Sprague Apr. 10, 1923 
 
 Walter W. Head Sept. 11, 1923 
 
 Fred W. Sargent Apr. 8, 1924 
 
 Ray N. Van Doren Nov. 10, 1925 
 
 John D. Caldwell Apr. 13, 1926 
 
 W. Seward Webb Dec. 14, 1926 
 
 Charles W. Nash Apr. 12, 1927 
 
 John D. CaldweU Apr. 10, 1928 
 
 John Stuart Jan. 8, 1929 
 
 Edson S. Woodworth Nov. 7, 1929 
 
 Arthur S. Pierce Apr. 8, 1930 
 
 W. Rufus Abbott Apr. 15, 1930 
 
 Samuel H. Cady Apr. 11, 1933 
 
 Barret Conway Apr. 11, 1933 
 
 W. Dale Clark Apr. 10, 1934 
 
 Walter J. Kohler Apr. 9, 1935 
 
 Harry W. Rush Apr. 9, 1935 
 
 Benjamin F. Kauffman Apr. 13, 1937 
 
 John H. MacMUlan, Jr Apr. 13, 1937 
 
 R. L. Williams Dec. 6, 1939 
 
 William H. Schellberg Apr. 9, 1940 
 
 Chester O. Wanvig Apr. 9, 1940 
 
 Robert K. Stuart ' Apr. 9, 1940 
 
 Robert E. Smith Apr. 9, 1940 
 
 To 
 Dec. 2 
 Mar. 16 
 Aug. 12 
 Oct. 21 
 Apr, 
 Apr 
 May 11 
 Dec. 14 
 Dec. 3 
 Apr. 8 
 June 11 
 Mar. 30 
 Mar. 9 
 June 23 
 Oct. 13 
 Feb. 8 
 Feb. 22 
 Apr. 17 
 Apr. 8 
 Apr. 13 
 Oct. 14 
 Apr. 10 
 June 1 
 Jan. 12 
 Apr. 12 
 Nov. 9 
 May 19 
 Feb. 5 
 Sept. 12 
 July 24 
 May 19, 
 May 19 
 June 30 
 June 1 
 Feb. 15 
 Apr. 21 
 Dec. 6 
 May 19 
 Mar. 3 
 Oct. 9 
 May 19 
 May 19 
 May 19 
 July 2 
 
 , 1919 
 , 1911 
 , 1929 
 , 1909 
 , 1919 
 , 1919 
 , 1916 
 , 1926 
 , 1940 
 , 1919 
 , 1918 
 , 1923 
 , 1935 
 , 1925 
 , 1925 
 , 1921 
 , 1940 
 , 1935 
 , 1924 
 , 1937 
 , 1936 
 , 1934 
 , 1939 
 , 1933 
 , 1927 
 , 1939 
 , 1944 
 , 1933 
 , 1934 
 , 1935 
 , 1944 
 , 1944 
 , 1942 
 , 1944 
 , 1940 
 , 1940 
 , 1939 
 , 1944 
 , 1948 
 , 1940 
 , 1944 
 , 1944 
 , 1944 
 , 1942 
 
29G 
 
 From 
 
 Guy A. Tliomas Apr. 9, 1940 
 
 Ix'onanl E. Iliirtz Apr. 8, 1941 
 
 Harry \V. HarrLsoii Apr. 8, 1941 
 
 John L. Banks Apr. 8, 1941 
 
 William E. Buclianan Jinie 1, 1944 
 
 William T. Faricy June 1, 1944 
 
 William C. Frye June 1. 1944 
 
 Meyer Kestnbaum June 1, 1944 
 
 Howard J. Klossner June 1, 1944 
 
 John Nuveen, Jr June 1. 1944 
 
 Frefl N. Oliver Juno 1, 1944 
 
 Walter P. I'aepeke June 1, 1944 
 
 Eugene A. Schmidt, Jr June 1, 1944 
 
 Harold W. Sweatt June 1, 1944 
 
 Frcleriek W. Walker June 1, 1944 
 
 Harry L. Wells June 1, 1944 
 
 R. L. Williams June 1, 1944 
 
 Arthur R. Seder Apr. 3, 1947 
 
 Walter Geist May 20, 1947 
 
 Harry G. McNeely Mar. 3, 1948 
 
 Barret Conway Mar. 3, 1948 
 
 * Incumbent as of May 1, 1948. 
 
 API' 
 
 E N D I X 
 
 
 To 
 
 May 
 
 19, 1944 
 
 
 * 
 
 May 
 
 19, 1944 
 
 May 
 
 19, 1944 
 
 Mar. 31, 1947 
 
 Mar. 3, 1948 
 
 May 20, 1947 
 
 STATIONS OF THE CHICAGO AND NORTH 
 WESTERN RAILWAY SYSTEM 
 
 Aberdeen, S.D. 
 Abie, Neb. 
 Adams, Wis. 
 Adrian, Minn. 
 Afton, Wis. 
 Agar, S.D. 
 Agiiew, III. 
 Ainsworth, Neb. 
 Akron, III. 
 Albion, Neb. 
 Alcester, S.D. 
 Alden, Iowa 
 Algona, Iowa 
 Algonouin, III. 
 Allen, 111. 
 Allcnville, W'is. 
 
 AUouez, Wis. 
 Almond, Wis. 
 Almont, Iowa 
 Alpha, Mieh. 
 Altamont, S.D. 
 Alton. Iowa 
 Alloona, Wis. 
 Amasa, Mich. 
 Amber, Iowa 
 Amboy, Minn. 
 Ames, Iowa 
 Amiret, Minn. 
 Anamosa, Iowa 
 Andover, Iowa 
 Andrews, Neb. 
 Aniwa, Wis. 
 Ankcny, Iowa 
 
 Anoka, Neb. 
 Anson, W'is. 
 Anston, Wis. 
 Antigo, Wis. 
 Antoine, Mich. 
 Appleby, S.D. 
 Aiipleton, Wis. 
 Appleton Jet., Wis. 
 Arabia, Neb. 
 Arapahoe, Wyo. 
 Arcadia, Iowa 
 Archer, III. 
 Arco, Minn. 
 Aredale, Iowa 
 Argonne, S.D. 
 Arion, Iowa 
 Arlington, Neb. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 297 
 
 Arlington, S.D. 
 Arlington Heights, 111. 
 Arpin, Wis. 
 Arthur, Iowa 
 Ashippun, Wis. 
 Ashland, Wis. 
 Ashland Jet., Wis. 
 Ashton, 111. 
 Ashton, Iowa 
 Astoria, S.D. 
 Athol, S.D. 
 Atkinson, Neb. 
 Auburn, Iowa 
 Audubon, Iowa 
 Augusta, Wis. 
 Aurora, S.D. 
 Austin, 111. 
 Avoca, Minn. 
 Avondale, El. 
 
 B 
 
 Badger, Wis. 
 Bagley, Mich. 
 Balaton, Minn. 
 Baldwin, Iowa 
 Baldwin, Wis. 
 Balsam, Mich. 
 Bancroft, Iowa 
 Bancroft, Neb. 
 Bancroft, Wis. 
 Bando, 111. 
 Bangor, Wis. 
 Bannerman, Wis. 
 Baraboo, Wis. 
 Bark River, Mich. 
 Barksdale, Wis. 
 Barneveld, Wis. 
 Barr, 111. 
 Barrington, III. 
 Barronett, Wis. 
 Barton, Wis. 
 Bassett, Neb. 
 Basswood, Mich. 
 Battle Creek, Iowa 
 Battle Creek, Neb. 
 
 Ba^-field, Wis. 
 Baj'port, Miiui. 
 Beaman, Iowa 
 Bear Creek, Wis. 
 Beaton, Mich. 
 Beaver, Iowa 
 Beaver, Mich. 
 Beaver Creek, Minn. 
 Beaver Crossing, Neb. 
 Bee, Neb. 
 Beechwood, Mich. 
 Beemer, Neb. 
 Beldenville, Wis. 
 Belgium, Wis. 
 Belle Fourche, S.D. 
 Belle Plaine, Iowa 
 Belle Plaine, Minn. 
 Bellevue, Wis. 
 Bellwood, El. 
 Beloit, Wis. 
 Belvidere, 111. 
 Benld, 111. 
 Bennett, Wis. 
 Bennington, Neb. 
 Benoit, Wis. 
 Benton, Wis. 
 Beresford, S.D. 
 Berne, Iowa 
 Berryville, Wis. 
 Bertram, Iowa 
 Bessemer, Mich. 
 Bigelow, Minn. 
 Big Falls, Wis. 
 Big Suamico, Wis. 
 Bingham Lake, Minn. 
 Birch, Wis. 
 Birchwood, Wis. 
 Birnamwood, Wis. 
 Black River FaUs, Wis. 
 Black Tail, S.D. 
 Blackwell Jet., Wis. 
 Blair, Neb. 
 Blairstown, Iowa 
 Blakeley, Minn. 
 Blencoe, Iowa 
 
 Blodgett, El. 
 Bloomer, Wis. 
 Bloomfield, Neb. 
 Blue Earth, Minn. 
 Blue Mounds, Wis. 
 Blunt, S.D. 
 Boardman, Wis. 
 Bonduel, Wis. 
 Bonesteel, S.D. 
 Bonita, Wis. 
 Boone, Iowa 
 Bordeaux, Neb. 
 Botna, Iowa 
 Bowler, Wis. 
 Box Elder, S.D. 
 Boyer, Iowa 
 Bradgate, Iowa 
 Braeside, 111. 
 Brainard, Neb. 
 Brampton, Mich. 
 Branch, Wis. 
 Brandon, S.D. 
 Brayson, 111. 
 Breda, Iowa 
 Breed, Wis. 
 Brewster, Minn. 
 Bricelyn, Minn. 
 Brill, Wis. 
 BrUlion, Wis. 
 Bristow, Neb. 
 Broadland, S.D. 
 Broadmoor, 111. 
 Bronson, Iowa 
 Brookings, S.D. 
 Brooklyn, Wis. 
 Brooks, Wis. 
 Bruce, S.D. 
 Brunet, Wis. 
 Bruno, Neb. 
 Brunsville, Iowa 
 Bryant, Iowa 
 Bryant, Wis. 
 Buckbee, Wis. 
 Buckmgham, Iowa 
 Bucknum, Wyo. 
 
298 
 
 A P I' E N U I X 
 
 Ruda. III. 
 Buffalo Gap, S.D. 
 Btirchard, Minn. 
 Uurke, S.D. 
 Burkharilt, Wis. 
 Biirkmere, S.D. 
 Burnett, Wis. 
 Burr, Minn. 
 Burt, Iowa 
 Bulk-r, Wis. 
 Butlcrfield, Minn. 
 Byron, Minn. 
 
 Cable, Wis. 
 Cadams, Neb. 
 Cadoma, Wyo. 
 Calamus, Iowa 
 Caledonia, 111. 
 Calhoun, Wis. 
 California Jet., Iowa 
 Callon, Wis. 
 Calvary, Wis. 
 Cambria, Minn. 
 Cameron, Wis. 
 Campbell, Midi. 
 Campbellsport, Wis. 
 Camp Douglas, Wis. 
 Camp Grove, 111. 
 Camp Logan, III. 
 Camp McCoy, Wis. 
 Canby, Minn. 
 Canistota, S.D. 
 Canning, S.D. 
 Canova, S.D. 
 Capa, S.D. 
 Capron, 111. 
 Careyliurst, Wyo. 
 Carlisle, Neb. 
 Carnarvon, Iowa 
 Carncs, Iowa 
 Carney, Mich. 
 Carnforth, Iowa 
 Carjientersvillc, 111. 
 Carroll, Iowa 
 
 Carroll, Neb. 
 Cunollville, Wis. 
 Carter (Forest Co.), Wis. 
 Carlersville, Iowa 
 Carthage, S.D. 
 Cary, 111. 
 Casper, Wyo. 
 Caspian, Mich. 
 Castana, Iowa 
 Castlewood, S.D. 
 Cato, Wis. 
 Cavour, S.D. 
 Cedar, Wis. 
 Cedar Bluffs, Neb. 
 Cedar (Jrove, Wis. 
 Cedarhursl, Wis. 
 Cedar Rapids, Iowa 
 Center Jet., Iowa 
 Centerville, S.D. 
 Ceresco, Neb. 
 Ceylon, Minn. 
 Chadron, Neb. 
 Chaison, Mich. 
 Charlotte, Iowa 
 ChallieUl, Minn. 
 Chelsea, Iowa 
 Chenumg, 111. 
 Cherry Valley, 111. 
 Chetek, Wis. 
 Chicago, 111. 
 Chili, Wis. 
 
 Chippewa Falls, Wis. 
 Chittenden, III. 
 Churchill, 111. 
 Cisco Lake, Mich. 
 Claremont, Minn. 
 Clarence, Iowa 
 Clark, S.D. 
 Clarkson, Neb. 
 Clayton, Wis. 
 Clear Lake, Wis. 
 Clearwater, Neb. 
 Clearwater Lake, Wis. 
 ("leinents, Minn. 
 Ch-veland, Wis. 
 
 Clinton, Iowa 
 Clinton, Nel). 
 Clinton Jet., Wis. 
 Clintonville, Wis. 
 Clowry, Mich. 
 Clutier, Iowa 
 Clybourn, 111. 
 Clynian, Wis. 
 Clyman Jet., Wis. 
 Cobb, Wis. 
 Cobden, Minn. 
 Coburn, Neb. 
 Cody, Neb. 
 Coleridge, Neb. 
 Colo, Iowa 
 Colonic, S.D. 
 Colon, Neb. 
 Columbia, S.D. 
 Columbia, Wis. 
 Combined Locks, AVis. 
 Comfrey, Minn. 
 Commonwealth, Wis. 
 Comstock, Wis. 
 Concord. Neb. 
 Coiide, S.D. 
 Conover, Wis. 
 Cotirad, Iowa 
 Cordova, Neb. 
 Cornell, Wis. 
 Comlea, Neb. 
 Correctionville, Iowa 
 Cortland, 111. 
 Cottage Grove, Wis. 
 Cottonwood, S.D. 
 Couderay, Wis. 
 Council Bluffs, Iowa 
 Council Bluffs Transfer, 
 
 Iowa 
 County Line (I'ierce 
 
 Co.), Wis. 
 Courtland, Minn. 
 Cragin, lU. 
 Craig, Iowa 
 Craig, Neb. 
 Crandon, S.D. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 Crandon, Wis. 
 Crawford, Neb. 
 Cray, Minn. 
 Creighton, Neb. 
 Crescent, Iowa 
 Creston, 111. 
 Creston, Neb. 
 Crofton, Neb. 
 Crookston, Neb. 
 CroweU, Neb. 
 Crystal Falls, Mich. 
 Crystal Lake, lU. 
 Cuba City, Wis. 
 Cudahy, Wis. 
 Culver, 111. 
 Cumberland, 111. 
 Cumberland, Wis. 
 Currie, Minn. 
 Cusliing, Iowa 
 Cutler, Wis. 
 Cuyler (Chicago), 111. 
 
 D 
 
 Daggett, Mich. 
 Dakota City, Iowa 
 Dakota City, Neb. 
 Dale, Neb. 
 Dallas, S.D. 
 Dalton, Wis. 
 Dalzell, 111. 
 Danbury, Iowa 
 Dane, Wis. 
 Darfur, Minn. 
 Davenport, Neb. 
 Dayton, Iowa 
 Deadwood, S.D. 
 Deep River, Iowa 
 Deerbrook, Wis. 
 Deerfield, Wis. 
 Deering (Chicago), 111. 
 Deer Park, Wis. 
 De Kalb, lU. 
 Delfelders, Wyo. 
 Delft, Minn. 
 Dellwood, Wis. 
 
 Delmar, Iowa 
 Dempster, S.D. 
 Denison, Iowa 
 Denmark, Wis. 
 De Pere, Wis. 
 De Smet, S.D. 
 Des Moines, Iowa 
 De Soto, Neb. 
 Des Plaines, 111. 
 Devils Lake, Wis. 
 Devon Ave. (Chicago), 
 
 111. 
 De Witt, Iowa 
 Dike, Iowa 
 Dixon, 111. 
 Dodge, Neb. 
 Dodge Center, Minn. 
 Dodgeville, Wis. 
 Doland, S.D. 
 Doliver, Iowa 
 Dotson, Minn. 
 Dougherty, Iowa 
 Douglas, Wyo. 
 Dousman, Wis. 
 Dover, Minn. 
 Dovray, Minn. 
 Dow City, Iowa 
 Drummond, Wis. 
 Duck Creek, Wis. 
 Dudley, I\Iinn. 
 Duluth, Minn. 
 Dumont, Iowa 
 Dundas, Wis. 
 Dmidee, 111. 
 Dundee, Minn. 
 Dunes Park, 111. 
 Dunlap, Iowa 
 Dwight, Neb. 
 
 Eagle Grove, Iowa 
 Eagle Lake, Minn. 
 Eagle Point, Wis. 
 Eagle River, Wis. 
 Eakin, S.D. 
 
 Earl, Wis. 
 EarlviUe, 111. 
 Early, Iowa 
 East End (Superior), 
 
 Wis. 
 East Rockford, 111. 
 East Waupun, Wis. 
 Eau Claire, Wis. 
 Eddy, 111. 
 Eden, Wis. 
 Edgar, Wis. 
 Edison Park, HI. 
 Edmund, Wis. 
 Eland, Wis. 
 Elberon, Iowa 
 Elburn, 111. 
 Elcho, Wis. 
 Elderon, Wis. 
 Eldora, Iowa 
 Eldorado, Wis. 
 Eleva, Wis. 
 Elgin, 111. 
 Elgin, Minn. 
 Elgin, Neb. 
 Eli, Neb. 
 Elkhorn, Neb. 
 Elk Mound, Wis. 
 Elkton, S.D. 
 Ellis, S.D. 
 Ellsworth, Iowa 
 Ellsworth, Wis. 
 Elmhurst, 111. 
 Elnihurst, Wis. 
 Elmore, Minn. 
 Elmwood, Mich. 
 Elroy, Wis. 
 Elton, Wis. 
 Elva, lU. 
 Emerson, Neb. 
 Emmet, Neb. 
 Engle, Wis. 
 Enterprise, Wis. 
 Escanaba, Mich. 
 Esmond, S.D. 
 Essig, Minn. 
 
300 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 K-tellinc. S.D. 
 Evan, Minn. 
 Evanston, 111. 
 Evansville, Wis 
 EwinK. Not). 
 Exeter, Neb. 
 Eyota, Minn. 
 
 Fairburn, S.D. 
 Fairchild, Wis. 
 Fairfax, Iowa 
 Fairfax, S.D. 
 Fairmont, Minn. 
 Fall Creek, Wis. 
 Farmer, S.D. 
 Farnliamville, Iowa 
 Faulkton, S.D. 
 Fellows, Wis. 
 Fennimore, Wis. 
 Fenton, Iowa 
 Fenwood, Wis. 
 Ferney, S.D. 
 Fetterman, Wyo. 
 Flagg, 111. 
 Florence, Neb. 
 Florence, W'is. 
 Fond du Lac, W'is. 
 Footville, W'is. 
 Fordyce, Neb. 
 Forest Jet., Wis. 
 Fort Atkinson, Wis. 
 Fort Calhoun, Neb. 
 Fort Pierre, S.D. 
 Fort Robinson, Neb. 
 Fort Sheridan, 111. 
 Foster, Neb. 
 Fox Lake, Minn. 
 Fox River Grove, 111. 
 Francis Creek, Wis. 
 Frankfort, S.D. 
 Franklin Grove, 111. 
 Freeport, 111. 
 Fremont, Neb. 
 Frieshind, Wis. 
 
 Frost, Minn. 
 Fruitdale, S.D. 
 Fulton, S.D. 
 Funiee, Mich. 
 
 Gagcn, Wis. 
 Galliraith, Iowa 
 Galesville, Wis. 
 Galloway, Wis. 
 Gull, Ilk 
 Galva, Iowa 
 Garden Cit}', ]\[inn. 
 Garden IVairie, 111. 
 Garvin, Minn. 
 Garwin, Iowa 
 Gary, S.D. 
 Geneva, 111. 
 Geneva, Neb. 
 Genoa City, Wis. 
 Gentian, Mich. 
 Gettysburg, S.D. 
 Ghent, Minn. 
 Gifford, Iowa 
 Gilbert, Iowa 
 Gilberts, 111. 
 Gilfillan, Minn. 
 Gillett, Wis. 
 Girard, 111. 
 Ciladbrook, Iowa 
 Gladstone Park, 111. 
 Glen, Neb. 
 Glenbeulah, Wis. 
 Glencoe, III. 
 Glen Ellyn. 111. 
 Glenoak, Wis. 
 Glenrock, Wyo. 
 Glidden, Iowa 
 Glover, Wis. 
 Goehner, Neb. 
 Gogebic, Mich. 
 Goldfield, Iowa 
 Goodwin. S.D. 
 Goose Lake, Iowa 
 Gordon, Neb. 
 
 Gordon, Wis. 
 Gorman, S.D. 
 Gowrie, Iowa 
 Grand Detour, 111. 
 Grand Jet., Iowa 
 Grand Marsh, Wis. 
 Grand Mound, Iowa 
 Grand View, Wis. 
 Granton, Wis. 
 Granville, Iowa 
 Granville, Wis. 
 Gray, Iowa 
 Great Lakes, 111. 
 Green Bay, Wis. 
 Green Lake, Wis. 
 Green Valley, 111. 
 Green Valley, Wis. 
 Greenville, Wis. 
 Greenwood Blvd., HI. 
 Gregory, S.D. 
 Gridley, Iowa 
 Grimms, Wis. 
 Grogan, Minn. 
 Groton, S.D. 
 Guckeen, Minn. 
 Guernsey, Iowa 
 
 H 
 
 Hadar, Neb. 
 Hadley, Minn. 
 Hahnaman, 111. 
 Haifa, Iowa 
 Hammond, Wis. 
 Hanlontown, Iowa 
 Hansen, Mich. 
 Harcourt, Iowa 
 Harlan, Iowa 
 Harris, Mich. 
 Harrison, Neb. 
 Harrison, Wis. 
 Harrold, S.D. 
 Hartford. S.D. 
 Hartington. Neb. 
 Hartland, 111. 
 Hartleys, Mich. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 Harlwick, Iowa 
 Harvard, 111. 
 Hatley, Wis. 
 Haugen, Wis. 
 Havana, Minn. 
 Havelock, Iowa 
 Haven, Wis. 
 Haverhill, Minn. 
 Hawarden, Iowa 
 Hawthorne, Wis. 
 Hay Springs, Neb. 
 Hayward, Wis. 
 Hazel, Mich. 
 Hecla, S.D. 
 Helena, Mich. 
 Helenville, Wis. 
 Hematite, Mich. 
 Henderson, Minn. 
 Hendricks, Minn. 
 Henry, S.D. 
 Herman, Neb. 
 Hermansville, Mich. 
 
 Hermosa, S.D. 
 
 Heron Lake, Minn. 
 
 Herrick, S.D. 
 
 Herring, Iowa 
 
 Hersey, Wis. 
 
 Hetland, S.D. 
 
 Hicks, Iowa 
 
 Highland Park, 111. 
 
 Highmore, S.D. 
 
 Highwood, 111. 
 
 Hiles, Wis. 
 
 Hines, Wis. 
 
 Hinton, Iowa 
 
 Hitchcock, S.D. 
 
 Holabird, S.D. 
 
 Holstein, Iowa 
 
 Honey Creek, Iowa 
 
 Hooker, S.D. 
 
 Hooper, Neb. 
 
 Hortonville, Wis. 
 
 Hoskins, Neb. 
 
 Hospers, Iowa 
 Hot Springs, S.D. 
 
 301 
 
 Houghton, S.D. 
 Howells, Neb. 
 Hubbard, Iowa 
 Hubbard, Neb. 
 Hubbard Woods, 111. 
 Hubly, 111. 
 Hudson, Wis. 
 Hudson, Wyo. 
 Hudson City, Wis. 
 Hughes, Iowa 
 Hull's Crossing, Wis. 
 Humbird, Wis. 
 Humboldt, S.D. 
 Hiunphrey, Neb. 
 Huntuig, Wis. 
 Huntley, 111. 
 Hurley, S.D. 
 Hurley, Wis. 
 Huron, S.D. 
 Hustler, Wis. 
 
 Ida Grove, Iowa 
 lUco, Wyo. 
 Imogene, Muin. 
 Indiantown, Mich. 
 Ingalls, Mich. 
 Inman, Neb. 
 Iowa Falls, Iowa 
 Ipswich, Wis. 
 Ireton, Iowa 
 
 Iron Mountain, Mich. 
 
 Iron River, Mich. 
 
 Ironwood, Mich. 
 
 Iroquois, S.D. 
 
 Irvine, Wyo. 
 
 Irving Park, 111. 
 
 Irvington, Iowa 
 
 Irvington, Neb. 
 
 Irwin, Iowa 
 
 Irwin, Neb. 
 
 Ishpeming, Mich. 
 
 Itasca, Wis. 
 
 Ivanhoe, Minn. 
 
 Ives, Wis. 
 
 Jackson, Wis. 
 James, Iowa 
 Janesville, Miiui. 
 Janesville, Wis. 
 JefFers, Minn. 
 Jefferson, Iowa 
 Jefferson, Wis. 
 Jefferson Jet., Wis. 
 Jefferson Park, 111. 
 Jewell, Iowa 
 Jim Falls, Wis. 
 Jireh, Wyo. 
 Johnson Creek, Wis. 
 Johnstown, Neb. 
 Joice, Iowa 
 Jordan, Iowa 
 Jordan, Minn. 
 Judson, Minn. 
 Juneau, AYis. 
 
 K 
 Kampeska, S.D. 
 Kamrar, Iowa 
 Kasota, Miim. 
 Kasson, Minn. 
 Kaukauna, Wis. 
 Kedzie, 111. 
 Keeline, Wyo. 
 Keesus, Wis. 
 Kellcy, Iowa 
 Kellner, Wis. 
 Kelly, Wis. 
 Kempster, Wis. 
 Kendalls, Wis. 
 Kenilworth, 111. 
 Kennard, Neb. 
 Kenosha, Wis. 
 Kesley, Iowa 
 Kew, Mich. 
 Kewaskum, Wis. 
 Kiester, Minn. 
 Kilgore, Neb. 
 Kimball, Wis. 
 
.•502 
 
 A P I" K N D I X 
 
 Kiiiilierly, Wis. 
 Kiiinsloy, Iowa 
 Kirkiiiiin. Iowa 
 Kiron, Iowa 
 Klevcnville, Wis. 
 Kloman, Mich. 
 Kiuipp, Wis. 
 Krakow, Wis. 
 Kraii/.hurf;, S.D. 
 Kurlli, Wis. 
 
 Lac du Flambeau, Wis. 
 La Crosse, Wis. 
 La Fox, 111. 
 Lake Benton, Minn. 
 Lake Uluff, 111. 
 Lake City, Iowa 
 Lake Como, Wis. 
 Lake Crystal, Minn. 
 Lake Elmo, Minn. 
 Lake Forest, 111. 
 Lake Geneva, Wis. 
 Lake George, Wis. 
 Lakeland Jot., Minn. 
 Lake Mills, Iowa 
 Lake Mills, Wis. 
 Lake Owen, Wis. 
 I^ake Preston, S.D. 
 Lakeside, Wis. 
 Lake Tomahawk, W is. 
 Lake \ iew, Iowa 
 Lake Wilson, Miim. 
 Lakewood, Wis. 
 Lainbcrton, Mimi. 
 Lamoille, Iowa 
 Lampson, Wis. 
 Lancaster, Wis. 
 Lancaster Jet., W is. 
 Lander, Wyo. 
 Land O'Lakes, Wis. 
 Langley, 111. 
 Laona, Wis. 
 Larch, Mich. 
 Larscn, Wis. 
 
 Lalhrop, Mich. 
 Laurel, Nel). 
 Laurens, Iowa 
 La Valle, Wis. 
 Lawn Hill, Iowa 
 Lawrence, III. 
 Lawrence, Miim. 
 Lawton, Iowa 
 Layton Park, Wis. 
 I>ead, S.D. 
 Lcajjers, Mich. 
 Leat, Neb. 
 Lebanon, S.D. 
 Lebanon, Wis. 
 I-edyard, Iowa 
 Le Grand, Iowa 
 Leigh, Neb. 
 Le Mars, Iowa 
 Lemington, Wis. 
 Lenox, Wis. 
 Leonards, Wis. 
 Le Sueur, Minn. 
 Levis, Wis. 
 Lewiston, ]\Iiim. 
 Lewisville, Minn. 
 Leyden, Wis. 
 Liberty, Wis. 
 Lick, 111. 
 
 Lime Creek, Mum. 
 liincoln. Neb. 
 Liiiderman, Wis. 
 Lindsay, Neb. 
 Linn Grove, Iowa 
 Linwoo<l, Neb. 
 Lisbon, Iowa 
 Little Chute, Wis. 
 Little Lake, Mich. 
 Little Rapids, Wis. 
 Little Suamico, Wis. 
 Livingston, Wis. 
 Ixjdi, Wis. 
 Logan, Iowa 
 Lohrville, Iowa 
 Lohrvillc, Wis. 
 Lombard, 111. 
 
 Ixindon, Wis. 
 I-one Pock, Iowa 
 I^ng I-ake, Wis. 
 Long Pine, Neb. 
 Loretta, Wis. 
 Loretto, Mich. 
 Loretto, Neb. 
 Lost Springs, Wyo. 
 Loveland, Iowa 
 Lowden, Iowa 
 Low Moor, Iowa 
 Lucan, Minn. 
 Ludden, N.D. 
 Lusk, Wyo. 
 Luther, in. 
 Luverne, Iowa 
 Luverne, !Minn. 
 Luzerne, Iowa 
 Lynch, Neb. 
 Lyndhurst, Wis. 
 Lyons, Iowa 
 Lyons, Neb. 
 Lytles, Wis. 
 
 M 
 McFarland, ]\Iich. 
 McGirr, 111. 
 McHenry, 111. 
 McMillan, Wis. 
 McNally, Iowa 
 McNaughton, Wis. 
 Madelia, Minn. 
 Madison, Wis. 
 Magnet, Neb. 
 Magnolia, Jlinn. 
 Magnolia, Wis. 
 Main St. (Evanston), 
 
 lU. 
 Malone, Iowa 
 Malone, Wis. 
 Malta, III. 
 Malvern, Wis. 
 Manchester, S.D. 
 Manitowish, Wis. 
 Manitowoc, Wis. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 303 
 
 Mankato, Minn. 
 Mauley, Minn. 
 Manlius, III. 
 JNIanning, Iowa 
 Mansfield, S.D. 
 Manville, Wyo. 
 Manyaska, Minn. 
 Maple Park, 111. 
 Maple River, Iowa 
 Mapleton, Iowa 
 Mapleton, Wis. 
 Maplewood (Chicago), 
 
 111. 
 Maquoketa, Iowa 
 Marathon, Iowa 
 JNIaratlion City, Wis. 
 Marengo, 111. 
 Marenisco, Mich. 
 IMaribel, Wis. 
 Marinette, Wis. 
 Marion, Wis. 
 Marlands, Wis. 
 Marna, Minn. 
 Marshall, Minn. 
 Marshalltown, Iowa 
 Marshfield, Wis. 
 Marshland, Wis. 
 Martland, Neb. 
 Mason, Wis. 
 Mason City, Iowa 
 Mastodon, Mich. 
 Mattoon, Wis. 
 IMaurice, Iowa 
 Maj-fair, 111. 
 May wood, 111. 
 Meadow Grove, Neb. 
 Mechanicsville, Iowa 
 Medina, Wis. 
 Medina Jet., Wis. 
 Melrose Park, 111. 
 Menasha, Wis. 
 Mendota, Minn. 
 Mendota, Wis. 
 Menomuiee, Mic'li. 
 Menomonie, Wis. 
 
 Menomonie Jet., Wis. 
 Mequon, Wis. 
 Mercer, Wis. 
 Meriden, Minn. 
 Merriam, Minn. 
 Merrill, Iowa 
 Merrillan, Wis. 
 Merrimac, Wis. 
 Merriman, Neb. 
 Midland, S.D. 
 Midway, Wis. 
 Miller, S.D. 
 Millston, Wis. 
 Miloma, Minn. 
 Milroy, Minn. 
 Milton Jet., Wis. 
 Milwaukee, Wis. 
 Minneapolis, Minn. 
 Mimieopa, Minn. 
 Minneota, Miiui. 
 Minnesota City, Minn. 
 Minnesota Jet., Wis. 
 Minong, Wis. 
 Miranda, S.D. 
 Missouri Valley, Iowa 
 Mitchell. S.D.' 
 Modale, Iowa 
 Mondamin, Iowa 
 Mondovi, Wis. 
 Moutfort, Wis. 
 Monico, Wis. 
 Monmouth, Iowa 
 Monowi, Neb. 
 Monroe, S.D. 
 Monfort Jet., Wis. 
 Montour, Iowa 
 Montrose, S.D. 
 Moorhead, Iowa 
 Morgan, Minn. 
 Moritz, S.D. 
 Morrison, lU. 
 Morse, 111. 
 Morse Bluff, Neb. 
 Mosher, S.D. 
 Mountain, Wis. 
 
 Mountain Lake, Minn. 
 Mount Horeb, Wis. 
 Mount Prospect, lU. 
 Mount Vernon, Iowa 
 ]\Ioville, Iowa 
 Mudbaden, Minn. 
 
 N 
 Nachusa, 111. 
 Naeora, Neb. 
 Narenta, Mich. 
 Nashville, Iowa 
 Nashville, Neb. 
 Nashville, Wis. 
 Neble, Wyo. 
 Necedah, Wis. 
 Neenali, Wis. 
 Negaunee, Mich. 
 Neillsville, Wis. 
 Nekoosa, Wis. 
 Neligh, Neb. 
 Nelson, 111. 
 Nenzel, Neb. 
 Neslikoro, Wis. 
 Nevada, Iowa 
 Newald, Wis. 
 New .\ul)urn. Wis. 
 Newbold, Wis. 
 Newell, S.D. 
 New London, Wis. 
 New London Jet., Wis. 
 Newman Grove, Neb. 
 Newport, Neb. 
 New Richmond, Wis. 
 Newton, Wis. 
 New Ulm, Minn. 
 Niekerson, Neb. 
 NicoUett, Minn. 
 Nieols, ]Minn. 
 Niobrara, Neb. 
 Nisland, S.D. 
 Node, Wyo. 
 Nora, Neb. 
 Norfolk, Neb. 
 Norma, Wis. 
 
304 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Noniiandy, 111. 
 Norrie, Wis. 
 North .Vurora, III. 
 North Branch, Wis. 
 North Chicago, 111. 
 Northfield, 111. 
 North Freedom, Wis. 
 North Lake, Wis. 
 Northline, Wis. 
 North Lowell, Wis. 
 Northrop, IMiiiii. 
 Northville, S.D. 
 Norwalk, Wis. 
 Norway, Iowa 
 Norway, Mich. 
 Norwood Park, 111. 
 Nowlin, S.D. 
 
 o 
 
 Oak, Neb. 
 Oak Center, Wis. 
 Oakdale, Neb. 
 Oakes, N.D. 
 Oakfield, Wis. 
 Oakland, Neb. 
 Oak Park, lU. 
 Oconto, Wis. 
 Oconto Falls, Wis. 
 Odanah, Wis. 
 Odebolt, Iowa 
 Odin, Minn. 
 Oelrichs, S.D. 
 Ogden, Iowa 
 Ojibwa, Wis. 
 Okee, Wis. 
 Omaha, Neb. 
 Onalaska, Wis. 
 Onawa, Iowa 
 O'Neill, Neb. 
 Onida, S.D. 
 Onslow, Iowa 
 Ontario, Iowa 
 Oostburg, Wis. 
 Opal, Wis. 
 Oral, S.D. 
 
 Orange City, Iowa 
 Ordway, S.D. 
 Oregon, Wis. 
 Org, Minn. 
 Orin, Wyo. 
 Oshawa, Minn. 
 Oshkosh. Wis. 
 Osseo, Wis. 
 Ottawa, Minn. 
 Owanka, S.D. 
 Owasa. Iowa 
 Owatonna, Minn. 
 Oxford, Wis. 
 
 Padiis, Wis. 
 Palatine, 111. 
 Palatka, Mich. 
 Panola, jNlirli. 
 Parker, S.D. 
 Parkersbiirg, Iowa 
 Parkerton, Wyo. 
 Park Falls, Wis. 
 Park Ridge, lU. 
 Parrish Jet., Wis. 
 Partridge, Mich. 
 Paullina, Iowa 
 Peratonica, 111. 
 Peebles, Wis. 
 Pelican Lake, Wis. 
 Pell Lake. Wis. 
 Pender, Neb. 
 Pensankee, Wis. 
 Pentoga, Mich. 
 Peoria, 111. 
 Peshtigo, Wis. 
 Petersbnrg, Neb. 
 Peterson, Iowa 
 Peterson Ave., III. 
 Petcrsville, Iowa 
 Phelps, W'is. 
 Philip, S.D. 
 Piedmont, S.D. 
 Pierce, Neb. 
 Pierre, S.D. 
 
 Pierson, Iowa 
 Pilger, Neb. 
 Pine Creek, Wis. 
 Pine Lake, W'is. 
 Pipestone, Minn. 
 Pisgah, Iowa 
 Plains, Mich. 
 Plainview, Minn. 
 Plainview, Neb. 
 Plattcviile, Wis. 
 Plum Creek. Iowa 
 Plymo\ith, Wis. 
 Polar, Wis. 
 Polk City, Iowa 
 Poplar Grove, III. 
 Port Edwards, Wis. 
 Porter, Minn. 
 Port Washington, Wis. 
 Powder River, Wyo. 
 Powell, S.D. 
 Powell, Wis. 
 Powers, Mich. 
 Pratt Jet., Wis, 
 Preston, Wis. 
 Price, Wis. 
 Princeton, Wis. 
 Proviso, 111. 
 Pulaski, Wis. 
 Pulp, Mich. 
 Pureair, Wis. 
 
 Q 
 
 Quarry, Iowa 
 Quinu, S.D. 
 Quinnesec, Mich. 
 
 R 
 
 Racine, Wis. 
 Radcliffe, Iowa 
 Radisson, Wis. 
 Radnor, III. 
 Racville, Neb. 
 Ralston, Iowa 
 Ramsay, Mich. 
 Randall, Iowa 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 305 
 
 Randolph, Neb. 
 Rapid City, S.D. 
 Ravenswood, Dl. 
 Ravinia, III. 
 Rawson, Wis. 
 Raymond, S.D. 
 Redfield, S.D. 
 Red Granite, AYis. 
 Redwater, S.D. 
 Redwood Falls, ^linn. 
 Reedsburg, Wis. 
 Reedville, Wis. 
 Ree Heights, S.D. 
 Renwick, Iowa 
 Revere, Minn. 
 Rewey, Wis. 
 Rhinelander, Wis. 
 Rice Lake, Wis. 
 Richmond, 111. 
 Ricketts, Iowa 
 Ridgefield, 111. 
 Ridgetop, Wis. 
 Ridgeway, Wis. 
 Ridott, III. 
 Riley's, Wis. 
 Ringle, Wis. 
 Ringsted, Iowa 
 Ringwood, HI. 
 Ripon, Wis. 
 Ritter, Iowa 
 River Falls, W^is. 
 Riverside, S.D. 
 River Sioux, Iowa 
 Riverton, Wyo. 
 Roberts, Wis. 
 RocheUe, 111. 
 Rochester, Minn. 
 Rock, Mich. 
 Rockfield, Wis. 
 Rockford, lU. 
 Rockham, S.D. 
 Rockland, Wis. 
 Rockmont, Wis. 
 Rodell, Wis. 
 Rogers Park, 111. 
 
 RoUe, Iowa 
 Rollo, 111. 
 Roscoe, El. 
 Rose Hill, 111. 
 Rosendale, Wis. 
 Rosholt, Wis. 
 Ross, Iowa 
 Round Grove, HI. 
 Rowena, Minn. 
 Roxby, Wis. 
 Rudolph, S.D. 
 Rufus, Wis. 
 Rushmore, Minn. 
 RushvLUe, Neb. 
 Rusk, Wis. 
 Rutland, Iowa 
 
 Sac City, Iowa 
 St. Charles, Minn. 
 St. Charles, S.D. 
 St. Cloud, Wis. 
 St. James, Minn. 
 St. Lawrence, S.D. 
 St. Marie, Wis. 
 St. Onge, S.D. 
 St. Paul, Minn. 
 St. Peter, Minn. 
 Salem, S.D. 
 SalLx, Iowa 
 Salmo, Wis. 
 Sanborn, Minn. 
 Sand Rock, Wis. 
 Sands, Mich. 
 Sarona, Wis. 
 Sauntry, Wis. 
 Savage, Minn. 
 Sawyer, Wis. 
 Saxon, Wis. 
 Saylor, Iowa 
 Scarville, Iowa 
 Schaller, Iowa 
 Schleswig, Iowa 
 Scott Lake, Mich. 
 Scranton, Iowa 
 
 Scribner, Neb. 
 Seaforth, Mian. 
 Secor, Iowa 
 Seeley, Wis. 
 Seneca, S.D. 
 Seney, Iowa 
 Sergeant Bluff, Iowa 
 Seventh St. (Norfolk), 
 
 Neb. 
 Seward, Neb. 
 Shabbona Grove, 111. 
 Shaft No. 2, 111. 
 Shakopee, Minn. 
 Sharon, Wis. 
 Shawano, Wis. 
 Shawnee, Wyo. 
 Sheboygan, AVis. 
 Sheboygan Falls, Wis. 
 Sheldahl, Iowa 
 Sheldon, Iowa 
 Shell Lake, Wis. 
 Shennington, Wis. 
 Shepley, Wis. 
 Sheppard, Wis. 
 Shickley, Neb. 
 Sholes, Neb. 
 Shorewood, Wis. 
 Shoshoni, Wyo. 
 Sibley, Iowa 
 Sidemont, Wis. 
 Silica, Wis. 
 Sioux City, Iowa 
 Sioux Falls, S.D. 
 Sioux Rapids, Iowa 
 Sioux Valley Jet., S.D. 
 Skokie, m. 
 Slater, Iowa 
 Slaj-ton, Muin. 
 Sleepy Eye, Minn. 
 Sloan, Iowa 
 Smith's Mill, Minn. 
 Smithwick, S.D. 
 Snells, Wis. 
 Snyder, Neb. 
 Soldier, Iowa 
 
30C 
 
 A P P K N D I X 
 
 Solon SpriiiRs, Wis. 
 Sopcrtoii, Wis. 
 Stiiitli Heaver Dam. Wis. 
 South Kl^iri. III. 
 Soiitli ISIiKvaukeo, Wis. 
 South Omaha, Neh. 
 South Oshkosh, Wis. 
 South IVkin. 111. 
 South Ran.lolph, Wis. 
 South Range, Wis. 
 South Sioux City, Neb. 
 Sparta, Wis. 
 Si.eer, III. 
 Spencer, Neb. 
 Spencer, S.D. 
 Split Rock, Wis. 
 Spooner, Wis. 
 Spread Eagle, Wis. 
 Spring Brook, Wis. 
 Springfield, Minn. 
 Sjjring Lake, Wis. 
 Spring Valley. 111. 
 Spring Valley, Wis. 
 Staadts, W' is. 
 Stack, Mich. 
 Stafford, Neb. 
 Stager, Mich. 
 Stambaugh, Mich. 
 Stanhope, Iowa 
 Stanton, Neb. 
 Stanton, Wis. 
 Stan wood, Iowa 
 State Center, Iowa 
 Stephenson, Mich. 
 Sterling, 111. 
 Stickley, Mich. 
 Stiles Junction, Wis. 
 Stillwater, Minn. 
 Stilzer, Wis. 
 Stockton, Minn. 
 Storden, Minn. 
 Story City, Iowa 
 Stout, Iowa 
 Stratford, Iowa 
 Stratford, Wis. 
 
 Strouds, Wyo. 
 Strum, Wis. 
 Stuart, Neb. 
 Sturgeon, Mich. 
 Sturgis, S.D. 
 Sugar Bush, Wis. 
 Sullivan, Wis. 
 Summerdale, 111. 
 Summit Lake, Wis. 
 Sui)erior, Neb. 
 Su])erior, Wis. 
 Superior East End, Wis 
 Suriug, Wis. 
 Sussex, Wis. 
 Sutherland, Iowa 
 Swanzy, Mich. 
 Swedeburg, Neb. 
 Sweden, Wis. 
 Sweetwater, 111. 
 Sycamore, 111. 
 Sydney, Wis. 
 Syene, Wis. 
 Sylvan Lake, S.D. 
 
 T 
 
 Tama, Iowa 
 Tamarack, Mich. 
 Taunton, Minn. 
 Tekamah, Neb. 
 Terra Cotta, 111. 
 Teton, S.D. 
 Thacher, Neb. 
 Thor, Iowa 
 Thornton, Wis. 
 Three Lakes. Wis. 
 Thurston, Neb. 
 Tigerton, Wis. 
 Tilden, Neb. 
 Tilford, S.D. 
 Tilton, Iowa 
 Tipler. Wis. 
 Tipton, Iowa 
 Tomahawk Lake, W'is. 
 Townsend, Wis. 
 Tracy, Minn. 
 
 Traer, Iowa 
 Traverse, Minn. 
 Trego, Wis. 
 Trempealeau, Wis. 
 Triumph, 111. 
 Tri\miph, Minn. 
 Trombly, Mich. 
 Troy Grove, IlL 
 Truax, Wis. 
 Truman, Miim. 
 Tunnel, Wis. 
 Turin, Iowa 
 Turtle Lake, Wis. 
 Turton, S.D. 
 Tuscobia, Wis. 
 Two Rivers, Wis. 
 Tyler, Minn. 
 Tyran, Wis. 
 Tyson, Neb. 
 
 u 
 
 Llao, Wis. 
 Underwood, S.D. 
 Union. 111. 
 Union Center, Wis. 
 Union Grove, 111. 
 Unityville, S.D. 
 Upton, 111. 
 Ute, Iowa 
 Utica, Minn. 
 
 Vail, Iowa 
 Valentine, Neb. 
 Valley Jet., Wis. 
 Valley Springs, S.D. 
 Vandyne, Wis. 
 Van Metre, S.D. 
 Van Petten, 111. 
 Van Tassell, W'yo. 
 Vayland, S.D. 
 Verdel, Neb. 
 Verdi, Minn. 
 Verdigre, Neb. 
 Verdon. S.D. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 307 
 
 Vernon Center, Minn. 
 \'erona. Wis. 
 \ esi)er, Wis. 
 Vesta, Minn. 
 Vilas, S.D. 
 Villa Park, El. 
 Viola, Minn. 
 Virden, III. 
 Volga, S.D. 
 Voorhies, Iowa 
 Vulcan, Mich. 
 
 W 
 
 Wabasso, Minn. 
 Wabeno, Wis. 
 Wahoo, Neb. 
 Wakefield, Mich. 
 Wakefield, Neb. 
 Wakonda, S.D. 
 Wald, Iowa 
 Wales, Wis. 
 Wall, S.D. 
 Wallace, Mich. 
 Wall Lake, Iowa 
 Walnut Grove, Minn. 
 Wanda, Minn. 
 Warren, Wis. 
 Wascott, W'is. 
 W;iseca, Minn. 
 Washburn, Wis. 
 Washington, Neb. 
 Wasta, S.D. 
 Watersmeet, Mich. 
 Watertown, S.D. 
 Watertown, Wis. 
 Watkuis, Io\\a 
 Waucedah, ^lich. 
 Waukegan, 111. 
 Waukesha, Wis. 
 Waunakee, Wis. 
 Wausa, Neb. 
 Wausau, W'is. 
 
 Wautonia, Wis. 
 Wayne, 111. 
 Wayne, Neb. 
 Wayside, Neb. 
 Webster City, Iowa 
 Weedens, Wis. 
 AVelcome, Minn. 
 Wellington, Mich. 
 Wendte, S.D. 
 Wessington, S.D. 
 West AUis, AA'is. 
 West Bend, Wis. 
 Westbrook. Minn. 
 West Chicago. 111. 
 West Clinton, Iowa 
 West Point, Neb. 
 West Rosendale, Wis. 
 West Salem, Wis. 
 West Side, Iowa 
 What Cheer. Iowa 
 Wlieatland, Iowa 
 Wheaton, 111. 
 Wheelerwood, Iowa 
 White Lake, Wis. 
 Whitelaw, Wis. 
 Whitewood, S.D. 
 Whiting, Iowa 
 Whitney, Neb. 
 Whitten, Iowa 
 Wilcox, Wis. 
 Wilder, Miim. 
 Wild Rose, Wis. 
 Wildwood, Wis. 
 Williams Bay, Wis. 
 Willow, Wis. 
 Wilniette, 111. 
 Wilson, Mich. 
 Wilson, Wis. 
 Wilson Ave., lU. 
 Wilton, Wis. 
 Winde, Mich. 
 
 Windoni, Minn. 
 AVinfield, 111. 
 Winnebago, 111. 
 AA inuebago, !Minn. 
 ^^ innebago, Wis. 
 Winner, S.D. 
 Winnetka, 111. 
 Winnetoon, Neb. 
 Winona, Minn. 
 Winside, Neb. 
 Winter, Wis. 
 Wintlu-op Harbor, 111. 
 Wisconsin Rapids, Wis. 
 Wisner, Neb. 
 Witten, S.D. 
 Wittenberg, Wis. 
 Wolsey, S.D. 
 Womac, 111. 
 Wonewoc, Wis. 
 Wood, S.D. 
 Woodbine, Iowa 
 Wood Lake, Neb. 
 Woodruff, Wis. 
 Woodstock, 111. 
 Woodstock, Minn. 
 Wood\ille, Wis. 
 Woolstock, Iowa 
 Worthing. S.D. 
 Worthington, Minn. 
 Wrightstown, Wis. 
 W\eville, Wis. 
 
 Yankton, S.D. 
 Yarnell, Wis. 
 
 Zachow, Wis. 
 Zaneta, Iowa 
 Zell, S.D. 
 Zion, 111. 
 
308 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 CONSTRUCTION OF 
 OF CHICAGO AND 
 R A I L ^^' A Y 
 
 LINES NOW PART 
 NORTH WESTERN 
 C O .M P A N Y 
 
 Dale 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 MOu 
 
 1S48 
 
 Chicago, 111. 
 
 Ilarlcm, 111. 
 
 10.00 
 
 1849 
 
 Harlem, lU. 
 
 Elgin, 111. 
 
 33.00 
 
 1852 
 
 ElKin, 111. 
 
 Rockford, 111. 
 
 50.00 
 
 1853 
 
 Kockford, 111. 
 
 Freeport, 111. 
 
 28.00 
 
 1S53 
 
 Belviderc, 111. 
 
 lieloit. Wis. 
 
 20.10 
 
 1854 
 
 Turner Jet., 111. 
 
 Dixon, 111. 
 
 68.00 
 
 1854 
 
 Chicago, 111. 
 
 Gary, 111. 
 
 38.50 
 
 1854 
 
 Minnesota Jet., Wis. 
 
 Fond du Lac, Wis. 
 
 29.00 
 
 1854 
 
 Elgin, m. 
 
 Genoa, Wis. 
 
 36.34 
 
 1855 
 
 Gary, m. 
 
 Janesville, Wis. 
 
 52.30 
 
 1855 
 
 Dixon, lU. 
 
 Fulton, IlL 
 
 39.00 
 
 1855 
 
 Ogden Ave., Chicago 
 
 Chicago River, Chicago 
 
 2.75 
 
 1855 
 
 Chicago, 111. 
 
 Wisconsin state line 
 
 44.60 
 
 1855 
 
 Wisconsin state line 
 
 Milwaukee, Wis. 
 
 40.40 
 
 1856 
 
 Chicago 
 
 Turner Jet., 111. 
 
 30.00 
 
 1857 
 
 CUnton, Iowa 
 
 Wheatland, Iowa 
 
 44.00 
 
 1858 
 
 Wheatland, Iowa 
 
 Lisbon, Iowa 
 
 20.00 
 
 1859 
 
 Janesville, Wis. 
 
 Minnesota Jet., Wis." 
 
 57.00 
 
 1859 
 
 Fond du Lac, Wis. 
 
 Oshkosh, Wis. 
 
 17.00 
 
 1859 
 
 Sheboygan, Wis. 
 
 Plymouth, Wis. 
 
 13.90 
 
 1859 
 
 Lisbon, Iowa 
 
 Cedar Rapids, Iowa 
 
 17.30 
 
 1859 
 
 Cortland, 111. 
 
 Sycamore, III. 
 
 4.64 
 
 1860 
 
 East bank of Missis- 
 sippi River, 111. 
 
 Little Rock Island 
 
 .88 
 
 1860 
 
 Beloit, Wis. 
 
 Magnolia, Wis. 
 
 17.00 
 
 1860 
 
 Plymouth, Wis. 
 
 Glenbeulah, Wis. 
 
 5.70 
 
 1861 
 
 Oshkosh, Wis. 
 
 Appleton, Wis. 
 
 20.00 
 
 1801 
 
 Kenosha, Wis. 
 
 RocWord, 111. 
 
 72.10 
 
 1861 
 
 Cedar Rapids, Iowa 
 
 Chelsea, Iowa 
 
 41.00 
 
 1862 
 
 Appleton, WLs. 
 
 Ft. Howard, Wis. 
 
 28.40 
 
 1862 
 
 Chebea, Iowa 
 
 Marshitil, Iowa 
 
 29.00 
 
 Constructed by 
 Galena and ChicaRo Union 
 
 Rail Road Company 
 G & C U R.R. Co. 
 G & C U R.R. Co. 
 G & C U R.R. Co. 
 G & C U R.R. Co. 
 G & C U R.R. Co. 
 Illinois and Wisconsin Rail 
 
 Road Company 
 Rock River Valley Union 
 
 Railroad Company 
 Fox River Valley Railroad 
 
 Company 
 Chicago, St. Paul and Fond 
 
 du Lac Rail Road Company 
 Galena and Chicago Union 
 
 Rail Road Company 
 Chicago, St. Charlea and 
 
 Mississippi Air Line Rail- 
 road Company 
 Chicago and Milwaukee Rail- 
 road Company 
 Green Bay, Milwaukee and 
 
 Chicago Rail Road Com- 
 pany 
 Galena and Chicago Union 
 
 Rail Road Company 
 Chicago, Iowa and Nebraska 
 
 Rail Road 
 C I & N R.R. 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 C & N. W. Ry. Co. 
 Sheboygan and Mississippi 
 
 Rail Road Company 
 Chicago, Iowa and Nebraska 
 
 Rail Road 
 The Sycamore and Cortland 
 
 Rail Road Company 
 The Albany Railroad Bridge 
 
 Company 
 Beloit and Madison Rail 
 
 Road Company 
 SheboyKan and Mississippi 
 
 Rail Road Company 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 Kenosha, Rockford and Rock 
 
 Island Rail Road Company 
 Cedar Rapids and Missouri 
 
 River Railroad 
 Cliicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 Cedar Rapids and Missouri 
 
 River Railroad 
 
API 
 
 ' E N D I X 
 
 
 
 Date 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 UOes 
 
 1864 
 
 So. Branch Jet., 
 Chicago 
 
 Ogden Ave., Chicago 
 
 1.75 
 
 1864 
 
 Escanaba, Mich. 
 
 Negaunee, Mich. 
 
 62.00 
 
 1864 
 
 Magnolia, Wis. 
 
 Madison, Wis. 
 
 31.80 
 
 1864 
 
 Marshall, Iowa 
 
 Nevada, Iowa 
 
 29.00 
 
 1864 
 
 Winona, Minn. 
 
 Rochester, Minn. 
 
 49.50 
 
 1865 
 
 Little Rock Island 
 
 Chnton, Iowa 
 
 .22 
 
 1865 
 
 Nevada, Iowa 
 
 Boone, Iowa 
 
 23.00 
 
 1867 
 
 Boone, Iowa 
 
 Missouri River, Iowa 
 
 149.60 
 
 1867 
 
 Rochester, Minn. 
 
 Waseca, Minn. 
 
 55.50 
 
 1867 
 
 Missouri Valley, Iowa 
 
 California Jet., Iowa 
 
 5.84 
 
 1867 
 
 California Jet., Iowa 
 
 Sloan, Iowa 
 
 49.81 
 
 1868 
 
 Sloan, Iowa 
 
 Sioux City, Iowa 
 
 20.00 
 
 1868 
 
 Glenbeulah, Wis. 
 
 Fond du Lac, Wis. 
 
 23.40 
 
 1869 
 
 California Jet., Iowa 
 
 Fremont, Neb. 
 
 31.77 
 
 1869 
 
 Fremont, Neb. 
 
 Maple Creek, Neb. 
 
 10.00 
 
 1870 
 
 Negaunee, Mich, 
 
 Lake Angeline, Mich. 
 
 4.58 
 
 1870 
 
 Various branches to Michigan mines 
 
 42.27 
 
 1870 
 
 Winona Jet., Wis. 
 
 Winona, Minn. 
 
 29.00 
 
 1870 
 
 Clinton, Iowa 
 
 Lyons, Iowa 
 
 2.60 
 
 1870 
 
 Waseca, Minn. 
 
 Janesville, Minn. 
 
 11.00 
 
 1870 
 
 Mankato Jet., Minn. 
 
 Mankato, Miim. 
 
 3.75 
 
 1870 
 
 Maple Creek, Neb. 
 
 West Point, Neb. 
 
 25.03 
 
 1871 
 
 Janes\ille, Minn. 
 
 St. Peter, Minn. 
 
 23.00 
 
 1871 
 
 Fort Howard, Wis. 
 
 Marinette, Wis. 
 
 49.45 
 
 1871 
 
 Fond du Lac, Wis. 
 
 Princeton, Wis. 
 
 35.40 
 
 1871 
 
 Genoa, Wis. 
 
 Lake Geneva, Wis. 
 
 8.70 
 
 1871 
 
 Geneva, Dl. 
 
 St. Charles, lU. 
 
 2.40 
 
 1871 
 
 Lyons, Iowa 
 
 Anamosa, Iowa 
 
 70.97 
 
 1871 
 
 Manitowoc, Wis. 
 
 BrilUon, Wis. 
 
 21.30 
 
 1871 
 
 West Point, Neb. 
 
 Wisner, Neb. 
 
 17.04 
 
 309 
 
 Constructed by 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 The Periinsula Rail Road 
 
 Company of Michigan 
 Beloit and Madison Rail 
 
 Road Company 
 Cedar Rapids and Missouri 
 
 River Railroad 
 Winona and Saint Peter Rail- 
 road Company 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 Cedar Rapids and Missouri 
 
 River Railroad 
 C R & M R R.R. 
 Winona and Saint Peter Rail- 
 road Company 
 Cedar Rapids and Missouri 
 
 River Railroad 
 Sioux City and Pacific Rail 
 
 Road Company 
 S C & P R.R. Co. 
 Sheboygan and Fond du Lac 
 
 Rail Road Company 
 Sioux City and Pacific Rail 
 
 Road Company 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri VaUey Rail Road 
 Company 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 La Crosse, Trempealeau and 
 Prescott Railroad Company 
 Cedar Rapids and Missouri 
 
 River Railroad 
 Winona and St. Peter Rail- 
 road Company 
 Winona, Mankato and New 
 
 Ulm Railway Company 
 Fremont, Elkliorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 Winona and St. Peter Rail- 
 road Company 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 Sheboygan and Fond du Lac 
 
 Rail Road Company 
 The State Line and Union 
 
 Railroad Company 
 The St. Charles Railroad 
 
 Company 
 Iowa Midland Railway Com- 
 pany 
 The Appleton and New 
 London Railway Company 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
310 
 
 
 
 
 Date 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 MHe> 
 
 1872 
 
 Mal-ineltc, Wis. 
 
 Escanaba, Mieh. 
 
 04.ti5 
 
 1872 
 
 Chicago, III. 
 
 Montrose, 111. 
 
 5.20 
 
 1872 
 
 Geneva, 111. 
 
 Hatavia, 111. 
 
 3.20 
 
 1872 
 
 Stanwood, Iowa 
 
 Tipton, Iowa 
 
 8.50 
 
 1872 
 
 Lake Shore Jet., Wis. 
 
 Sheboygan, Wis. 
 
 48.50 
 
 1872 
 
 BrilUon, Wis. 
 
 One mi. cast of Appleton 
 
 20.00 
 
 1872 
 
 St. Peter, Minn. 
 
 New Ulm, Minn. 
 
 30.00 
 
 1873 
 
 Madison, WL'i. 
 
 Winona Jet., Wis. 
 
 129.10 
 
 1873 
 
 Milwaukee, Wis. 
 
 Fond du Lac, Wis. 
 
 62.63 
 
 1873 
 
 Sheboygan, Wis. 
 
 Manitowoc, Wis, 
 
 25.20 
 
 1873 
 
 New Ulm, Minn. 
 
 Watertown, S.D. 
 
 153.98 
 
 1874 
 
 Galena, 111. 
 
 Platteville, Wis. 
 
 31.50 
 
 1874 
 
 Des Moines, Iowa 
 
 Ames, Iowa 
 
 37.00 
 
 1874 
 
 Boone, Iowa 
 
 Coal Banks, Iowa 
 
 3.25 
 
 1874 
 
 Manitowoc, Wis. 
 
 Two Rivers, Wis. 
 
 6.35 
 
 1874 
 
 Appleton, 1 mi. east 
 
 Appleton, Wig, 
 
 1.00 
 
 1876 
 
 Appleton, Wis. 
 
 New London, Wis. 
 
 19.90 
 
 1877 
 
 Powers, Mich. 
 
 Quinnesec, Mich. 
 
 24.71 
 
 1877 
 
 PhiUps Corners, Wis. 
 
 Conley, Wis. 
 
 8.50 
 
 1877 
 
 Maple River Jet., 
 Iowa 
 
 Maplcton, Iowa 
 
 60.15 
 
 1878 
 
 Woodman, Wis. 
 
 Lancaster, Wis. 
 
 31.38 
 
 1878 
 
 Ames, Iowa 
 
 Callanan, Iowa 
 
 20.34 
 
 1878 
 
 New London, Wis. 
 
 Chntonville, Wis. 
 
 16.20 
 
 1878 
 
 Sleepy Eye, Minn. 
 
 Redwood Falls, Minn. 
 
 24.40 
 
 1878 
 
 Rochester, Minn. 
 
 Zunibrota, Minn. 
 
 24.48 
 
 1878 
 
 Eyota, Minn. 
 
 Plainview, Minn. 
 
 15.01 
 
 1878 
 
 Eyota, Minn. 
 
 Chatfield, Minn. 
 
 11.46 
 
 1879 
 
 Extension 
 
 Appleton, Wis. 
 
 3.63 
 
 1879 
 
 Danchff Jet., Wis. 
 
 Montfort, Wis. 
 
 13.50 
 
 1879 
 
 Wall Lake, Iowa 
 
 Sac City, Iowa 
 
 12.76 
 
 1879 
 
 Clintonville, Wis. 
 
 Tigerton, Wis. 
 
 18.60 
 
 1879 
 
 Hortonville, WLs. 
 
 Lee, Wis. 
 
 11.40 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Constructed by 
 
 Cliicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 C <t N W Ry. Co. 
 
 C A N W Ry. Co. 
 
 Stanwood and Tipton Rail- 
 way Company 
 
 Milwaukee, Manitowoc and 
 Green Bay Railroad Com- 
 pany 
 
 The Appleton and New Lon- 
 don Railway Company 
 
 Winona and St. Peter Rail- 
 road Company 
 
 Cliicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 Northwestern Union Railway 
 Company 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railroad Company 
 
 Winona and St. Peter Rail- 
 road Company 
 
 Galena and Southern Wiscon- 
 sin Railroad Company 
 
 The Des Moines and Minne- 
 sota Rail-Road Company 
 
 Iowa Railway, Coal and 
 Manufacturing Company 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railroad Company 
 
 The Appleton and New Lon- 
 don Railway Company 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 Menominee River Railroad 
 Company 
 
 Galena and Southern Wiscon- 
 sin Railroad Company 
 
 The Maple River Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 Chicago and Tomah Railroad 
 Company 
 
 The Des Moines and Minne- 
 apolis Rail Road Company 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Sliore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 The Minnesota Valley Rail- 
 way Company 
 
 The Rochester and Northern 
 Minnesota Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 Plain vie wRail Road Company 
 
 Chatfield Rail Road Company 
 
 Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 The Chicago and Tomah 
 Railroad Company 
 
 Sac City and Wall Lake 
 Railroad Co. 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 
 
 311 
 
 Date 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 Maa 
 
 Constructed by 
 
 1879 
 
 Tracy, Minn. 
 
 S. Dakota line 
 
 46.40 
 
 Chicago and Dakota Railway 
 Company 
 
 1879 
 
 South Dakota line 
 
 Volga, S.D. 
 
 24.51 
 
 Dakota Central Railway 
 Company 
 
 1S79 
 
 Wisner, Neb. 
 
 Oakdale, Neb. 
 
 58.56 
 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 1880 
 
 Quinnesec, Mich. 
 
 State hne, Mich. 
 
 6.37 
 
 Menominee River Railroad 
 Company 
 
 1880 
 
 State line, Wis. 
 
 Florence, Wis. 
 
 11.00 
 
 Menominee Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 1880 
 
 Janes\'ille, Wis. 
 
 Alton, Wis. 
 
 6.10 
 
 Rock River Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 1880 
 
 Montfort, Wis. 
 
 Conley, Wis. 
 
 8.00 
 
 The Chicago and Tomah Rail- 
 road Company 
 
 1880 
 
 Tama, Iowa 
 
 Toledo, Iowa 
 
 3.00 
 
 The Toledo and Northwestern 
 Railway 
 
 1880 
 
 Toledo, Iowa 
 
 Webster City, Iowa 
 
 80.39 
 
 The T & N W Ry. 
 
 1880 
 
 Tigerton, Wis. 
 
 Aniwa, Wis. 
 
 22.70 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 1880 
 
 Lee, Wis. 
 
 Oshkosh, Wis. 
 
 11.70 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 1880 
 
 Eland Jet., Wis. 
 
 Wausau, Wis. 
 
 23.87 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 1880 
 
 Volga, S.D. 
 
 Pierre, S.D. 
 
 184.75 
 
 Dakota Central Railway 
 Company 
 
 1880 
 
 Oakdale, Neb. 
 
 NeHgh, Neb. 
 
 5.33 
 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri VaUey Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 1880 
 
 Norfolk Jet., Neb. 
 
 Plainview, Neb. 
 
 31.76 
 
 F E & M V R.R. Co. 
 
 1881 
 
 Madison, Wis. 
 
 Montfort, Wis. 
 
 60.84 
 
 The Chicago and Tomah 
 Railroad Company 
 
 1881 
 
 Carroll, Iowa 
 
 Kirkman, Iowa 
 
 34.81 
 
 Iowa South Western Railway 
 Company 
 
 1881 
 
 Webster City, Iowa 
 
 Eagle Grove, Iowa 
 
 14.76 
 
 The Toledo and Northwestern 
 Railway 
 
 1881 
 
 Eagle Grove, Iowa 
 
 WiUow Glen, Iowa 
 
 29.81 
 
 The T & N W Ry. 
 
 1881 
 
 Jewell Jet., Iowa 
 
 Stratford, Iowa 
 
 15.03 
 
 The T & N W Ry. 
 
 1881 
 
 Aniwa, Wis. 
 
 Summit Lake, Wis. 
 
 26.42 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 1881 
 
 Ordway Jet., S.D. 
 
 Ordway, S.D. 
 
 87.95 
 
 Dakota Central Railway 
 Company 
 
 1881 
 
 Plain\-iew, Neb. 
 
 Creighton, Neb. 
 
 10.30 
 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri VaUey RaU Road 
 Company 
 
 ISSl 
 
 NeUgh, Neb. 
 
 Long Pine, Neb. 
 
 97.64 
 
 F E & M V R.R, 
 
 1882 
 
 Florence, Wis. 
 
 Crystal Falls, Mich. 
 
 16.69 
 
 Menominee River Railroad 
 Company 
 
 1882 
 
 Iron River Jet., Mich. 
 
 Stambaugh, Mich. 
 
 19.50 
 
 M R R.R. Co. 
 
 1882 
 
 Various branches to mi 
 
 nes 
 
 27.13 
 
 M R R.R. Co. 
 
 1882 
 
 Narenta, Mich. 
 
 MetropoHtan, Mich. 
 
 34.86 
 
 Escanaba and Lake Superior 
 Railway Company 
 
 1882 
 
 Various branches to mi 
 
 nes 
 
 8.44 
 
 E & L S Ry. Co. 
 
 1882 
 
 Milwaukee, Wis. 
 
 Madison, Wis. 
 
 80.04 
 
 Milwaukee and Madison Rail- 
 way Company 
 
 1882 
 
 Manning, Iowa 
 
 .\udubon, Iowa 
 
 17.00 
 
 Iowa South Western Railway 
 Company 
 
 1882 
 
 Eagle Grove, Iowa 
 
 Elmore, Minn. 
 
 66.41 
 
 The Toledo and Northwestern 
 Railway 
 
 1882 
 
 Jewell Jet., Iowa 
 
 D M & M connection 
 
 1.75 
 
 The T ifc N W Ry. 
 
 1882 
 
 Willow Glen, Iowa 
 
 Hawarden, Iowa 
 
 115.39 
 
 The T & N W Ry. 
 
 1882 
 
 Stratford, Iowa 
 
 Lake City, Iowa 
 
 43.27 
 
 The T & N W Ry. 
 
812 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Date 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 Milet 
 
 1882 
 
 Summit Lake, Ww. 
 
 Three Ijikes, Wis. 
 
 28.80 
 
 1882 
 
 Monico, Wis. 
 
 Rhinclander, Wis. 
 
 15.70 
 
 1882 
 
 Antigo, Wig. 
 
 Bryant, Wis. 
 
 5.00 
 
 1882 
 
 Ordway, 8.D. 
 
 Columbia, S.D. 
 
 6.47 
 
 1882 
 
 Wfttertown, S.D. 
 
 Kedfield, S.D. 
 
 71.00 
 
 1882 
 
 Long Pine, Neb. 
 
 Thatcher, .\eb. 
 
 48.71 
 
 1882 
 
 Oconto, Wis. 
 
 Stiles Jet., Wis. 
 
 10.00 
 
 1883 
 
 Batavia, lU. 
 
 Aurora, 111. 
 
 6.20 
 
 1883 
 
 Trempealeau, Wis. 
 
 GalcsviUe, WLs. 
 
 6.71 
 
 1883 
 
 Sac City, Iowa 
 
 lungsley, Iowa 
 
 58.11 
 
 1883 
 
 Tliree Lakes, Wis. 
 
 Michigan state line 
 
 31.00 
 
 1883 
 
 Michigan state line 
 
 Gogebic, Mich. 
 
 20.10 
 
 1883 
 
 Bryant, Wis. 
 
 East Bryant switch 
 
 2.27 
 
 1883 
 
 Castlewood Jet., S.D. 
 
 Watertown, S.D. 
 
 43.83 
 
 1883 
 
 Iroquois, S.D. 
 
 Hawarden, Iowa 
 
 125.49 
 
 1883 
 
 Thatcher, Neb. 
 
 Valentine, Neb. 
 
 6.28 
 
 1883 
 
 Stiles Jet., Wis. 
 
 Oconto Falls, Wis. 
 
 5.00 
 
 1883 
 
 California Jet., Iowa 
 
 Blair, Nebr. 
 
 3.36 
 
 1884 
 
 Belle Plaine, Iowa 
 
 Muchakinoek, Iowa 
 
 60.36 
 
 1884 
 
 Gogebic, Mich. 
 
 Montreal River, Mich. 
 
 40.79 
 
 1884 
 
 Eldora Jet., Iowa 
 
 Aldcn Jet., Iowa 
 
 20.40 
 
 1884 
 
 Necedah, Wis. 
 
 Wyeville, Wis. 
 
 10.06 
 
 1884 
 
 Oconto Falls, Wis. 
 
 Clintonville, Wis. 
 
 41.00 
 
 1885 
 
 Belvidcrc, 111. 
 
 Spring Valley, 111. 
 
 75.78 
 
 1885 
 
 Montreal River, Mich. 
 
 Ashland, Wis. 
 
 30.62 
 
 1885 
 
 Centerville, S.D. 
 
 Yankton, S.D. 
 
 28.46 
 
 1885 
 
 Valentine, Neb. 
 
 Chadron, Neb. 
 
 136.27 
 
 1885 
 
 Chadron, Neb. 
 
 Buftalo Gap, S.D. 
 
 55.79 
 
 1886 
 
 Winona Jet., Wis. 
 
 La Crosse, Wis. 
 
 3.96 
 
 1886 
 
 Mapleton, Iowa 
 
 Onnwa, Iowa 
 
 20.70 
 
 188G 
 
 Janeaville, Wis. 
 
 Evanaville, Wis. 
 
 15.68 
 
 1886 
 
 Lake City, Iowa 
 
 Wall Lake Jet., Iowa 
 
 15.38 
 
 ComtTUcted by 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 Dakota Central Railway 
 Company 
 
 D C Ry. Co. 
 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 St. Paul Eastern Grand Trunk 
 Railway Company 
 
 Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 Galea ville and Mississippi 
 River Rail Road Company 
 
 The Maple River Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 Dakota Central Railway 
 Company 
 
 D C Ry. Co. 
 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 St. Paul Eastern Grand Trunk 
 Railway Company 
 
 Missouri Valley and Blair 
 Railway and Bridge Com- 
 pany 
 
 Ottumwa, Cedar Falls and St. 
 Paul Railway Company 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 Chicago, Iowa and Dakota 
 Railway Company 
 
 Princeton and Western Rail- 
 way Company 
 
 St. Paul Eastern Grand 
 Trunk Railway Company 
 
 Northern lUiuois Railway 
 Company 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 Dakota Central Railway 
 Company 
 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 F E & M V R.R. Co. 
 
 Cliicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 Maple Valley Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 JanesviUe and Evansville 
 Railway Company 
 
 The Toledo and Northwestern 
 Railway 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 313 
 
 Date From 
 
 1886 Columbia. S.D. 
 
 886 Redfield, S.D. 
 
 886 Doland, S.D. 
 
 886 Buffalo Gap, S.D. 
 
 886 Dakota Jet., Neb. 
 
 886 Fremont, Neb. 
 
 888 Scribner, Neb. 
 
 886 Wyoming state line 
 
 887 Kingsley, Iowa 
 
 887 Cut Off, Iowa 
 
 887 Iron River, Mich. 
 
 887 Hurley, Wis. 
 
 887 Watersmeet, Mich. 
 
 887 Faulkton, S.D. 
 
 887 Verdon, S.D. 
 
 887 Lindsay, Neb. 
 
 887 Rapid City, S.D. 
 
 887 Arlington, Neb. 
 
 887 Irvington, Neb. 
 
 887 Platte River Jet., 
 
 Neb. 
 
 887 Linwood, Neb. 
 
 887 Douglas, Wye. 
 
 888 Ishpeming, Mich. 
 888 Clowry, Mich. 
 888 Wabic, Mich. 
 
 888 Lake Geneva, Wis. 
 
 888 Rhinelander, Wis. 
 
 888 Pratt Jet., Wis. 
 Geneva, Neb. 
 
 Faulkton, S.D. 
 Verdon, S.D. 
 Rapid City, S.D. 
 
 Wyoming state line 
 Lincoln, Neb. 
 Lindsay, Neb. 
 Douglas, Wyo. 
 
 Mo\'ille, Iowa 
 
 Cedar Rapids, Iowa 
 
 Watersmeet, Mich. 
 Southwesterly 
 
 Northerly 
 Gettysburg, S.D. 
 
 Groton, S.D. 
 Oakdale, Neb. 
 
 Wliitewood, S.D. 
 Omaha, Neb. 
 So. Omaha Stockyards 
 Hastings, Neb. 
 
 Geneva, Neb. 
 Glen Rock, Wyo. 
 
 Republic, Mich. 
 Michigamme, Mich. 
 Champion, Mich. 
 WilUams Bay, Wig. 
 
 Lake Flambeau, Wis. 
 
 Westerly (Wis.) 
 
 Kansas line. Neb. 
 
 888 Creighton, Neb. Verdigre, Neb. 
 88S Glen Rock, Wyo. Casper, Wyo. 
 
 889 Montrose, lU. North Evanston, III. 
 889 Lake Flambeau, Wis. Hurley, Wis. 
 
 889 Near Pratt Jet., Wis. Westerly 
 
 889 Jeffris Jet., Wis. Jeffris, Wis. 
 
 890 Buffalo Gap, S.D. Hot Springs, SX). 
 
 Whitewood, S.D. 
 Whitewood, S.D. 
 
 Deadwood, S.D. 
 BeUe Fourche (S.D.) 
 Stockyards 
 
 Miles Constructed by 
 
 38.53 Dakota Central Railway 
 
 Company 
 
 32.54 DCRy. Co. 
 24 . 38 DC Ry. Co. 
 
 48.11 Fremont, Elkhoru and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 58.02 F E & M V R.R. (3o. 
 
 52.11 FE&MVR.R. Co. 
 60.79 FE&MVR.R. Co. 
 
 76.79 Wyoming Central Railway 
 
 Company 
 9.00 Sioux Valley Railway Com- 
 pany 
 5.96 T.inn County Railway Com- 
 pany 
 35. 16 Iron River Railway Company 
 7.00 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 10.36 MLS&WRy. Co. 
 42.33 Dakota Central Railway 
 
 Company 
 14.46 DCRy. Co. 
 
 53.12 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 36.43 FE&MVR.R. Co. 
 27.88 FE&MVR.R. Co. 
 10.26 FE&MVR.R. Co. 
 
 120.26 FE&MVR. R. Co. 
 
 77.53 FE&MVR.R. Co. 
 
 28.97 Wyoming Central Railway 
 
 Company 
 21.96 Iron Range Railway Company 
 
 10.44 I R R.R. 
 1.23 IRR.R. 
 
 6.00 Lake Geneva and State Line 
 Railway Company 
 
 26.80 Milwaukee Lake Shore and 
 
 Western Railway Company 
 13.08 The Wolf and Wisconsin 
 
 Rivers Railroad Company 
 46.61 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 11.98 FE&MVR.R. Co. 
 24.70 Wyoming Central Railway 
 
 Company 
 7 . 69 Junction Railway Company 
 45.61 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 8.99 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 2.11 MLS&WRy. Co. 
 14.12 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 9.13 FE&MVR. R. Co. 
 21 . 19 F E & M V R. R. Co. 
 
.Tit 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Date 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 MUa 
 
 Constructed by 
 
 18'.)() 
 
 I,ttdd, 111. 
 
 Seatonville, III. 
 
 3.25 
 
 The DePue. Ladd and East- 
 ern Railroad Company 
 
 1890 
 
 Rscanulia, Mich. 
 
 Loop Line Jet., Mich, 
 (near .\ntoine) 
 
 51.12 
 
 Escanaba, Iron Mountain and 
 Western Railroad Company 
 
 1891 
 
 Crystal Falla. Mich. 
 
 Hemlock Mine, Mich. 
 
 15.00 
 
 Paint River Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 1891 
 
 Near WaUrsniect, 
 Mich. 
 
 Northerly 
 
 12.70 
 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 1891 
 
 Deadwood, .S.D. 
 
 Ruby Basin, S.D. 
 
 11.78 
 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 1891 
 
 Portland Jet., S.D. 
 
 End of Tr.ick, S.D. 
 
 2.40 
 
 F E & M V R.R. Co. 
 
 1891 
 
 Mine branches 
 
 Ruby Baain, S.D. 
 
 2.55 
 
 F E & M V R.R. Co. 
 
 
 Mine branches 
 
 Portland branch 
 
 1.62 
 
 F E & M V R.R. Co. 
 
 1892 
 
 Watersmeot, Mich. 
 
 Northerly 
 
 2.. 56 
 
 Milwaukee Lake Shore and 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 1892 
 
 Wausau, Wbi. 
 
 Marshfield, Wis. 
 
 40. (X) 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 1892 
 
 Mine branches 
 
 
 34.22 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 1892 
 
 Mill spurs 
 
 
 13.32 
 
 M L S A W Ry. Co. 
 
 1892 
 
 Hunting, Wis. 
 
 Big Falls, Wis. 
 
 5.48 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 1892 
 
 .^niwa, Wis. 
 
 Mattoon, Wis. 
 
 9.59 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 1892 
 
 nUes Jet., Wi.s. 
 
 Hile.s, WLs. 
 
 9.12 
 
 M L S & W Ry. Co. 
 
 1897 
 
 Northern Jet., Wis. 
 
 Wabeno, Wis. 
 
 46.11 
 
 Wisconsin Northern Railway 
 Company 
 
 1899 
 
 Wabeno, Wis. 
 
 Laona, Wis. 
 
 14.92 
 
 Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 1899 
 
 Burt, Iowa 
 
 Sanborn, Minn. 
 
 91.86 
 
 Minnesota and Iowa Railway 
 Company 
 
 1899 
 
 Sanborn, Minn. 
 
 Vesta, Minn. 
 
 26.40 
 
 M & I Ry. Co. 
 
 1899 
 
 Wall Lake, Iowa 
 
 Denison, Iowa 
 
 24.80 
 
 Boyer Valley Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 1899 
 
 Boyer, Iowa 
 
 Mondamin. Iowa 
 
 61.30 
 
 B V Ry. Co, 
 
 1899 
 
 Kirkman, Iowa 
 
 Harlan, Iowa 
 
 6.30 
 
 Harlan and Kirkman Railway 
 pany 
 
 1899 
 
 Blue Earth, Minn. 
 
 Mason City, Iowa 
 
 59.12 
 
 Iowa, Minnesota and North- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 1900 
 
 Mankato, Minn. 
 
 New Ulm, Minn. 
 
 25.58 
 
 Mankato and New Ulm Rail- 
 way Company 
 
 1900 
 
 Tyler, Minn. 
 
 Astoria, S.D. 
 
 32.20 
 
 Minnesota and South Dakota 
 Railway Company 
 
 1900 
 
 Mason City, Iowa 
 
 Belle Plaine, Iowa 
 
 100.88 
 
 Iowa, Minnesota and North- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 1900 
 
 Blue Earth, Minn. 
 
 Fox Lake, Minn. 
 
 29.00 
 
 I M & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 1900 
 
 Boone, Iowa 
 
 Ogden, Iowa 
 
 7.25 
 
 Boone County Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 1901 
 
 Stark, Iowa 
 
 Buxton, Iowa 
 
 21.55 
 
 Southern Iowa Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 1901 
 
 Princeton, Wis. 
 
 Marshfield, Wis. 
 
 85.69 
 
 Princeton and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 1901 
 
 RedGranite Jet., Wis. 
 
 Red Granite, Wis. 
 
 7.85 
 
 Princeton and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 1901 
 
 Nekoosa Jet., Wis. 
 
 Nekoosa, Wis. 
 
 6.88 
 
 Princeton and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 1901 
 
 Nelson, HI. 
 
 Peoria, 111. 
 
 82.98 
 
 Peoria and North-Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 1901 
 
 Turtle, Mich. 
 
 Cisco Lake, Mich. 
 
 5.74 
 
 Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 1901 
 
 Pelican, Wis. 
 
 Crandon, Wis. 
 
 17.84 
 
 Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 1901 
 
 Moville, Iowa 
 
 Sargent's BlufTs, Iowa 
 
 20.00 
 
 Moville Extension Railway 
 Company 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 
 
 Date 
 
 Ftow, 
 
 To 
 
 Miles 
 
 1901 
 
 Honzicks siding, Wis. 
 
 Ormsby, Wis. 
 
 •4.43 
 
 1902 
 
 Evan, Minn. 
 
 Marshall, Minn, 
 
 45.82 
 
 1902 
 
 GayviUe, S.D. 
 
 Lead City, S.D. 
 
 2.92 
 
 1902 
 
 Verdigre, Neb. 
 
 Bonesteel, S.D. 
 
 69.40 
 
 1903 
 
 Eland Jet., Wis. 
 
 Rosholt, Wis. 
 
 19.74 
 
 1903 
 
 Jet. north of .\ntigo, 
 
 Wis. 
 Mayfair, lU. 
 
 Casper, Wis. 
 
 16.62 
 
 1903 
 
 Lake Bluff, 111. 
 
 22.22 
 
 1904 
 
 Girard, lU. 
 
 Benld, 111. 
 
 23.90 
 
 1905 
 
 Mercer, Wis. 
 
 Fosterville, Wis. 
 
 19.49 
 
 1906 
 
 Laona, Wis. 
 
 Saunders, Mich. 
 
 29.51 
 
 1906 
 
 Conover, Wis. 
 
 Hackley, Wis. 
 
 9.33 
 
 1906 
 
 East Bryant switch, 
 
 Wis. 
 Chicago Northern Jet. 
 
 Elton, Wis. 
 
 9.01 
 
 1906 
 
 St. Francis, Wis. 
 
 50.24 
 
 1906 
 
 Manitowoc, Wis. 
 
 Green Bay, Wis. 
 
 36.25 
 
 1906 
 
 Duck Creek, Wis. 
 
 Gillett, Wis. 
 
 29.74 
 
 1906 
 
 Casper, Wyo. 
 
 Shoshoni, Wyo. 
 
 102.40 
 
 1906 
 
 Fort Pierre, S.D. 
 
 Phihp, S.D. 
 
 76.00 
 
 1906 
 
 Wasta, S.D. 
 
 Rapid City, S.D. 
 
 45.00 
 
 1907 
 
 Marathon City, Wis. 
 
 Rib Falls, Wis 
 
 4.75 
 
 1907 
 
 Elton, Wis. 
 
 Wolf River VaUey, Wis. 
 
 6.60 
 
 1907 
 
 Bonesteel. S.D. 
 
 Gregory, S.D. 
 
 25.96 
 
 1907 
 
 Gregory, S.D. 
 
 DaUas, S.D. 
 
 4.49 
 
 1907 
 
 MiUbrig, Wis. 
 
 Hazel Green, Wis. 
 
 2.70 
 
 1907 
 
 Pulaski, Wis. 
 
 Eland Jet., Wis. 
 
 47.69 
 
 1907 
 
 Wolf River Valley 
 Jet., Wis. 
 
 Van Ostrand, Wis. 
 
 1.98 
 
 1907 
 
 Shoshoni, Wyo. 
 
 Lander, Wyo. 
 
 45.49 
 
 1907 
 
 PhiUp, S.D. 
 
 Wasta, S.D. 
 
 44.48 
 
 1907 
 
 Pierre, S.D. 
 
 Fort Pierre, S.D. 
 
 1.82 
 
 1908 
 
 St. Francis, Wis. 
 
 Bay View, Wis. 
 
 2.38 
 
 1908 
 
 Bryant, Wis. 
 
 Polar, Wis. 
 
 3.24 
 
 1910 
 
 Dallas, S.D. 
 
 Coloine, S.D. 
 
 10.51 
 
 1910 
 
 Nachusa, lU. 
 
 Nelson, 111. 
 
 12.76 
 
 1910 Hinton Jet., Iowa 
 
 1910 Belle Fourche, S.D. 
 
 Hawarden Jet., Iowa 
 
 315 
 
 Constructed by 
 
 Northern Woodland Com- 
 pany 
 
 Minnesota Western Railway 
 Company 
 
 Fremont, Elkhorn and Mis- 
 souri Valley Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 F E & M V R.R. Co. 
 
 Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 C & N W Ry, Co. 
 
 Chicago Northern Railway 
 
 Company 
 Macoupin County Railway 
 
 Company 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C A N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 Milwaukee and State Line 
 Railway Company 
 
 Manitowoc, Green Bay and 
 North- Western Railway 
 Company 
 
 M. G B & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 Wyoming and Northwestern 
 Railway Company 
 
 Pierre, Rapid City and North- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 P R C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 Manitowoc, Green Bay and 
 North- Western Railway 
 Company 
 
 Wolf River Valley Railway 
 Company 
 
 Wyoming and Northwestern 
 Railway Company 
 
 Pierre, Rapid City and North- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 Pierre and Fort Pierre Bridge 
 Railway Company 
 
 Chicago and North Western 
 Railway Company 
 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 Lee County Railway Com- 
 pany 
 
 Sioux City, Dakota and 
 North Western Railway 
 Company 
 
 Belle Fourche VaUey Railway 
 Company 
 
316 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Dale 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 Mile» 
 
 1910 
 
 Gettysburg, S.D. 
 
 Blunt, S.D. 
 
 39.55 
 
 1911 
 
 Colome, S.D. 
 
 Winner, S.D. 
 
 10.99 
 
 1911 
 
 Cut oft at Easton, 
 Wisconsin division 
 
 Lake Shore division 
 
 1.02 
 
 1911 
 
 Lindwerm, Wis. 
 
 Necedah, Wis. 
 
 139.40 
 
 1911 
 
 Proviso yard. 111. 
 
 Wisconsin division Jet., 
 111. 
 
 10.50 
 
 1912 
 
 WyevUle, Wis. 
 
 Sparta, Wis. 
 
 23.02 
 
 1912 
 
 Norma, 111. 
 
 VaUey, lU. 
 
 10.01 
 
 1913 
 
 Peoria, 111. 
 
 Pekin, 111. 
 
 13.19 
 
 1914 
 
 Pekin, III. 
 
 Girard, 111. 
 
 77.55 
 
 1914 
 
 Junction at Koepe- 
 nick. Wis. 
 
 Pearson, Wis. 
 
 8.74 
 
 1914 
 
 Benld, 111. 
 
 Staunton, 111. 
 
 4.36 
 
 1915 
 
 Buxton, Iowa 
 
 Miami, Iowa 
 
 0.63 
 
 1915 
 
 Miami, Iowa 
 
 Consol, Iowa 
 
 12.25 
 
 1917 
 
 Consol, Iowa 
 
 Westerly (Iowa) 
 
 1.52 
 
 1919 
 
 Pine River Jet., Wis. 
 
 Northerly (Wis.) 
 
 6.09 
 
 1922 
 
 Extension of Heine- 
 
 Northerly and westerly 
 
 2.62 
 
 
 mann spur 
 
 (Wis.) 
 
 
 1925 
 
 Beaton, Mich. 
 
 Northerly 
 
 7.76 
 
 1926 
 
 Wakefield, Mich. 
 
 End of track 
 
 4.20 
 
 1926 
 
 Gogebic, Mich. 
 
 End of track 
 
 3.61 
 
 1927 
 
 Staunton, 111. 
 
 De Camp, 111. 
 
 2.51 
 
 1927 
 
 Braden, S.D. 
 
 Vale, S.D. (beyond) 
 
 12.13 
 
 1927 
 
 Redwater Jet., S.D. 
 
 JoUy, S. D. 
 
 3.74 
 
 1929 
 
 Wiscona, Wis. 
 
 Fox Point, Wis. 
 
 3.03 
 
 1929 
 
 Winner, S.D. 
 
 Wood, S.D. 
 
 33.71 
 
 1930 
 
 Gogebic, Mich. 
 
 End of track 
 
 5.65 
 
 1948 
 
 Belle Fourche, S. D. 
 {Middle Creek) 
 
 Aladdin, Wyo. 
 
 18.20 
 
 ConstrucUd by 
 James River VaUey and 
 
 North Western Railway 
 
 Company 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 Milwaukee, Sparta and North 
 
 Western Railway Company 
 
 Des Plainca Valley Railway 
 
 Company 
 Milwaukee, Sparta and North 
 
 Western Railway Company 
 Des Plaines Valley Railway 
 
 Company 
 St. Louis, Peoria and North 
 
 Western Railway Company 
 St. Louis. Peoria and North 
 
 Western Railway Company 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 Macoupin County Extension 
 
 Railway Company 
 ChicaKo and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 Iowa Southern Railway Com- 
 pany 
 I S Ry. Co. 
 
 B. Ueinemann Lumber Co. 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 Chicago and North Western 
 
 Railway Company 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 CONSTRUCTION OF LINES NOW PART OF 
 
 CHICAGO, SAINT PAUL, MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 AND OMAHA RAILWAY COMPANY 
 
 (PART OF CHICAGO AND NORTH WESTERN 
 
 SYSTEM) 
 
 Date 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 
 MCa 
 
 Conatmcted by 
 
 1865 
 
 Mendota, Minn. 
 
 Shakopee, Minn. 
 
 
 22.00 
 
 Minnesota Valley Railroad 
 
 Company 
 
 1866 
 
 Mendota, Minn. 
 
 St. Paul, Minn. 
 
 
 6.00 
 
 M V R.R. Co. 
 
 1866 
 
 Shakopcc, Minn. 
 
 Belle Plaine, Minn 
 
 
 18.40 
 
 M V R.R. Co. 
 
 1867 
 
 BeUe Plaine, Minn. 
 
 Lc Sueur, Minn. 
 
 
 15.80 
 
 M V R.R. Co. 
 
 1868 
 
 Warren, Wis. 
 
 Black River Falls, 
 
 Wis. 
 
 20.46 
 
 West Wisconsin Railway 
 Company 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 
 
 Dale 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 Mitea 
 
 1868 
 
 Le Sueur, Minn. 
 
 Mankato, Minn. 
 
 22.00 
 
 1869 
 
 Mankato, Minn. 
 
 Lake Crystal, Minn. 
 
 12.20 
 
 1869 
 
 Black River Falls, 
 Wis. 
 
 Augiista, Wis. 
 
 34.21 
 
 1870 
 
 Augusta, Wis. 
 
 Menomonie Jet., Wis. 
 
 47.84 
 
 1870 
 
 Lake Crystal, Minn. 
 
 St. James, Minn. 
 
 22.50 
 
 1870 
 
 Omaha, Neb. 
 
 Blair, Neb. 
 
 25.00 
 
 1871 
 
 Menomonie Jet. Wis. 
 
 Hudson, Wis. 
 
 43.29 
 
 1871 
 
 North Wis. Jet., Wis. 
 
 New Richmond, Wis. 
 
 13.20 
 
 1871 
 
 St. James, Minn. 
 
 58 miles westerly from 
 St. James 
 
 58.00 
 
 1871 
 
 St. Paul, Minn. 
 
 StUlwater Jet., Minn. 
 
 14.40 
 
 1871 
 
 Stillwater Jet., Minn. 
 
 Stillwater, Minn. 
 
 3.30 
 
 1871 
 
 Stillwater Jet., Minn. 
 
 St. Croix drawbridge, 
 Minn. 
 
 3,50 
 
 1872 
 
 Eh-oy, Wis. 
 
 Warren, Wis. 
 
 32.10 
 
 1872 
 
 58 miles westerly from 
 St. James, Minn. 
 
 Le Mars, Iowa 
 
 64.59 
 
 1872 
 
 South Stillwater 
 switch. Minn. 
 
 South Stillwater, Minn. 
 
 2.10 
 
 1874 
 
 New Richmond, Wis. 
 
 Clayton, Wis. 
 
 24.40 
 
 1876 
 
 Sioux FaUs Jet., 
 Minn. 
 
 Luverne, Minn. 
 
 29.00 
 
 1876 
 
 Blair, Neb. 
 
 Tekamah, Neb. 
 
 17.01 
 
 1877 
 
 Luverne, Minn. 
 
 Beaver Creek, Minn. 
 
 8.00 
 
 1877 
 
 Covington, Neb. 
 
 Coburn Jet., Neb. 
 
 9,53 
 
 1877 
 
 Coburn Jet., Neb. 
 
 Ponca, Neb. 
 
 16.33 
 
 1878 
 
 Hudson, Wis. 
 
 River Falls, Wis. 
 
 11.70 
 
 1878 
 
 Clayton, Wis. 
 
 Cumberland, Wis. 
 
 17,20 
 
 1878 
 
 Beaver Creek, Minn. 
 
 Sioux Falls, S.D. 
 
 21,40 
 
 1879 
 
 Cumberland, Wis. 
 
 North of Chandler, Wis. 
 
 26.00 
 
 1879 
 
 Luverne, Minn. 
 
 State line, Minn. 
 
 10.56 
 
 1879 
 
 State hne, Minn. 
 
 Doon, Iowa 
 
 17.44 
 
 1879 
 
 Heron Lake, Minn. 
 
 Woodstock, Minn. 
 
 44.20 
 
 1879 
 
 Tekamah, Neb. 
 
 Oakland, Neb. 
 
 15.76 
 
 1880 
 
 Merrillan, Wis. 
 
 Towards NeillsviUe, Wis. 
 
 4.50 
 
 1880 
 
 North of Chandler, 
 Wis. 
 
 Cable, Wis. 
 
 38.20 
 
 Constructed by 
 
 Minnesota Valley Railroad 
 Company 
 
 M V R.R. Co. 
 
 West Wisconsin Railway 
 Company 
 
 W W Ry. Co. 
 
 St. Paul and Sioux City Rail- 
 road Company 
 
 Omaha and Northwestern 
 Railroad Company 
 
 West Wisconsin Railway 
 Company 
 
 North Wisconsin Railway 
 Company 
 
 St. Paul and Sioux City Rail- 
 road Company 
 
 The St. Paul, Stillwater and 
 Taylors Falls Rail Road 
 Company 
 
 St P S & T F R.R. Co. 
 
 St P S & T F R.R. Co. 
 
 West Wisconsin Railway 
 Company 
 
 St. Paul and Sioux City Rail- 
 road Company 
 
 The St. Croix Railway and 
 Improvement Company 
 
 North Wisconsin Railway 
 Company 
 
 Worthington and Sioux Falls 
 Railroad Company 
 
 Omaha and Northwestern 
 Railroad Company 
 
 Worthington and Sioux Falls 
 Railroad Company 
 
 Covington, Columbus and 
 Black Hills Railroad Com- 
 pany 
 
 C C & B H R.R. Co. 
 
 Hudson and River Falls Rail- 
 way Company 
 
 North Wisconsin Railway 
 Company 
 
 Worthington and Sioux Falls 
 Railroad Company 
 
 North Wisconsin Railway 
 Company 
 
 The Worthington and Sioux 
 Falls Railroad Company 
 of Iowa 
 
 The Worthington and Sioux 
 Falls Railroad Company of 
 Iowa 
 
 Minnesota and Black Hills 
 Railroad Company 
 
 Omaha and Northern Ne- 
 braska Railway Company 
 
 The Black River Railroad 
 Company 
 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
818 
 
 Dale 
 
 Front 
 
 Sioux Falls, S.D. 
 
 880 Lake Crystal, Minn. 
 
 South Stillwater, 
 Minn. 
 
 Missouri River trans- 
 fer, Iowa 
 
 Oakland, Neb. 
 
 Missouri River trans- 
 fer. Neb. 
 Eau Claire, Wis. 
 Menomonie Jet., Wis. 
 
 Cable, Wis. 
 
 East (4 H miles) of 
 
 Merrillan, Wis. 
 Chippewa Falls, Wis. 
 
 Emerson Jet., Neb. 
 
 North (4 miles) of 
 Cable, Wis. 
 
 North (9 miles) of 
 
 Superior Jet. 
 
 (Trego), Wis. 
 Bloomer, Wis. 
 
 North of Bear Creek 
 
 (Haugen), Wis. 
 Wayne, Neb. 
 
 From connection with 
 main Une of C St P 
 M & O R.R. 
 
 North of Mason, Wis. 
 
 St. Croix drawbridge 
 
 Coburn Jet., Neb. 
 
 Shaw's Mills, Wis. 
 
 Towards Bayfield, Wis 
 
 Towards Superior, Wis 
 West of Neillsville, Wi 
 Bloomer, Wis. 
 Wayne, Neb. 
 North of Ma.son, Wis. 
 
 Ita 
 
 ■itch, Wb 
 
 South of Bear Creek 
 (Haugen), Wis. 
 
 Chicago Jet. (near 
 Spooner), Wis. 
 
 Norfolk, Neb. 
 
 Cedar Falls, Wis. 
 
 883 South of Bear Creek North of Bear Creek 
 
 (Haugen), Wis. 
 Eau Claire, Wis. 
 
 Wakefield, Neb. 
 
 (Haugen), Wis. 
 Chippewa Falls, Wis. 
 
 Hartington, Neb. 
 
 Ashland Jet., Wis. .\shland, WL 
 
 884 Spur to depot, Chip- 
 pewa Falls, Wis. 
 
 884 Woodstock, Minn. 
 ,884 Ashland Shore Line at 
 
 Ashland, Wis. 
 884 Superior Short Line 
 
 Jet., Wis. 
 88-1 Superior Street line 
 884 Connor's Point line 
 
 West Superior, Wis. 
 
 39.60 
 43.43 
 2.45 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Construcled by 
 
 St. Paul and Sioux City Rail- 
 road Company 
 
 St. Paul and Sioux City Rail- 
 road Company 
 
 St P & S C R.R. Co. 
 
 .94 St P & S C R.R. Co. 
 
 53.51 Sioux City and Nebraska 
 Railroad Company 
 1.31 SC&NR.R. Co. 
 
 2 . 74 Eau Claire Railway Company 
 
 3.01 The Menomonie Railway 
 Company 
 
 4.00 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Ckimpany 
 
 9.00 CStPM& ORy. Co. 
 
 9.29 CStPMit ORy. Co. 
 
 14 . 50 Chippewa Falls and Northern 
 Railway Company 
 
 18.70 Sioux City and Nebraska 
 Railroad Company 
 
 26.00 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
 51 . 63 C St P M & O Ry. Co. 
 
 37.00 Chippewa F.ills and Northern 
 
 Railway Company 
 13.13 CF&NR.R. 
 
 27.80 Sioux City and Nebraska 
 Railroad Company 
 2.50 C^dar Falls and Northern 
 Railway Company 
 
 28.51 
 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 
 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 
 
 Company 
 
 4.65 
 
 Chippewa Falls and Northern 
 
 
 Railway Company 
 
 10.57 
 
 The Eau Claire and Chippewa 
 
 
 Falls R.iilway Company 
 
 33.76 
 
 Sioux City and Nebraska 
 
 
 Railroad Company 
 
 4.38 
 
 Ashland Railway Company 
 
 .77 
 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 
 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 
 
 Company 
 
 10.90 
 
 C St P M & Ry. Co. 
 
 1.31 
 
 Ashland Railway Company 
 
 6.30 
 
 Superior Short Line Railway 
 
 
 Company 
 
 .58 
 
 S S L Ry. Co. 
 
 1.59 
 
 SSL Ry. Co. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 
 
 Date 
 
 Fro-.n 
 
 To 
 
 MCea 
 
 ISSo 
 
 River Falls, Wis. 
 
 Ellsworth, Wis. 
 
 13.12 
 
 1886 
 
 Wajtie, Neb. 
 
 1 mile north of Randolph, 
 Neb. 
 
 21.68 
 
 1886 
 
 Rice's Point, Duluth, 
 
 St. Paul and Duluth 
 
 2.60 
 
 
 Minn. 
 
 Railroad connection 
 
 
 1887 
 
 Salem, S.D. 
 
 Mitchell, S.D. 
 
 32.73 
 
 1887 
 
 West of Neillsville, 
 Wis. 
 
 Neillsville, Wis. 
 
 1.37 
 
 1887 
 
 Fairchild, Wis. 
 
 Osseo, Wis. 
 
 14.21 
 
 1889 
 
 Osseo, Wis. 
 
 Eleva, Wis. 
 
 12.89 
 
 1890 
 
 From 1 mile north of 
 Randolph, Neb. 
 
 Bloomfield, Neb. 
 
 21.08 
 
 1890 
 
 Chicago Jet., Wis. 
 
 Spooner, Wis. 
 
 .89 
 
 1S90 
 
 Eleva, Wis. 
 
 Mondovi, Wis. 
 
 9.65 
 
 1891 
 
 Neillsville, Wis. 
 
 Marehfield, Wis. 
 
 23.51 
 
 1891 
 
 Bloomfield, Neb. 
 
 End of track 
 
 .38 
 
 1891 
 
 Woodville, Wis. 
 
 A point about 3 miles 
 south of Wildwood, 
 Wis. 
 
 8.00 
 
 1892 
 
 Emerald, Wis. 
 
 Woodville, Wis. 
 
 9.70 
 
 1S92 
 
 .\bout 3 miles south of 
 WUdwood, Wis. 
 
 Spring Valley, Wis. 
 
 2.38 
 
 1893 
 
 Ponca, Neb. 
 
 Newcastle, Neb. 
 
 10.62 
 
 1899 
 
 Madelia, Minn. 
 
 Fairmont, Minn. 
 
 29.38 
 
 1899 
 
 Bingham Lake, Minn. 
 
 Jeffers, Minn, 
 
 13.90 
 
 1900 
 
 Jeffers, Minn. 
 
 Currie, Minn. 
 
 24.73 
 
 1901 
 
 Tuscobia, Wis. 
 
 Birchwood, Wis. 
 
 12.50 
 
 1902 
 
 Spring Valley, Wis. 
 
 Weston, Wis. 
 
 16.29 
 
 1902 
 
 Birchwood. Wis. 
 
 Radisson, Wis. 
 
 23.50 
 
 1902 
 
 Chippewa Falls, Wis. 
 
 Holcombe, Wis. 
 
 27.70 
 
 1903 
 
 Holcombe, Wis. 
 
 Hughey, Wis. 
 
 21.58 
 
 1904 
 
 Radisson, Wis. 
 
 Winter, Wis. 
 
 10.00 
 
 1906 
 
 Winter, Wis. 
 
 Draper, Wis. 
 
 10.00 
 
 1906 
 
 Extension of Elmore 
 (Minn.) Une 
 
 
 .26 
 
 1906 
 
 CUff, Minn. 
 
 St. Paul Jet., Minn. 
 
 1.02 
 
 319 
 
 Constructed by 
 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
 North-Eastern Nebraska 
 Railroad Company 
 
 Superior Short Line Railway 
 Company of Minnesota 
 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
 Sault Ste. Marie and South- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 S Ste M & S W Ry. Co. 
 
 Randolph and Northeastern 
 Nebraska Railroad Com- 
 pany 
 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apohs and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
 Sault Ste. Marie and South- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
 C St P M & O Ry. Co. 
 
 Woodv-ille and Southern Rail- 
 way Company 
 
 Minnesota and Wisconsin 
 
 Railway Company 
 M & W Ry. Co. 
 
 Cliicago, Saint Paul, Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
 Watonwan Valley Railway 
 Company 
 
 Des Moines Valley Railway 
 Company of Minnesota 
 
 D M V Ry, Co. of Minn. 
 
 Chippewa Valley and North- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 Minnesota and Wisconsin 
 Railroad Company 
 
 Chippewa Valley and North- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 Eau Claire, Chippewa Falls 
 and Northeastern Railway 
 Company 
 
 E C C F & N E Ry. Co. 
 
 Chippewa Valley and North- 
 western Railway Company 
 
 Cliicago, Saint Paul, -Minne- 
 apolis and Omaha Railway 
 Company 
 
 C St P M & O Ry. Co. 
 
 C St P M & O Ry. Co. 
 
320 
 
 
 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Date 
 
 From 
 
 To 
 
 MOa 
 
 Constructed by 
 
 1006 
 
 HartinEton, Neb. 
 
 Crotton, Neb. 
 
 15.38 
 
 C St P M & Ry. Co. 
 
 1907 
 
 NewcMtle, Nob. 
 
 Wynot, Neb. 
 
 18.44 
 
 C St P M & Ry. Co. 
 
 1908 
 
 Draper, Wis. 
 
 Kennedy, Wis. 
 
 9.33 
 
 C St P M & Ry. Co. 
 
 1910 
 
 Kennedy, Wis. 
 
 Kaiser, Wis. 
 
 4.93 
 
 C St P M & Ry. Co. 
 
 1914 
 
 Kaiser, Wis. 
 
 Park Falls, Wis. 
 
 5.99 
 
 C St P M & Ry. Co. 
 
lograpnij 
 
 Andreas, A. T.: Andreas' Eutory of Chicago, R. R. Donnelley & Sons, Chicago. 
 
 Angle, Paul: The Great Chicago Fire, Valentine-Newman, Chicago. 
 
 C & N W Ry. Co. Museum, An Account of Railroading in the Minnesota Valley. 
 
 Carr, Clark E.: The Railway Mail Service, A. C. McClurg & Company, Chicago. 
 
 Chicago Tribune newspaper files. 
 
 Corliss, Carlton J.: "The Story of Marvin Hughitt," Illinois Central Magazine. 
 
 Derleth, August: The Milwaukee Road, Creative Age Press, Inc., N. Y. 
 
 Kingsbury, G. AV'.: History of Dakota Territory, privately printed by Mr. Kings- 
 bury at Yankton, S. D. 
 
 Minnesota Handbook for 1856. 
 
 Minnesota Historical Society Collections. 
 
 Minnesota Historical Society, Minnesota Farmers' Dairies, 10,J9. 
 
 Petersen, W. J.: The Northwestern Comes, The Palimpsest (Iowa Historical 
 Soc). 
 
 Pullman Company Records. 
 
 Reynolds' History of Illinois. 
 
 Riegel, Robert: The Story of the Western Railroads, The Macmillan Company, 
 New York. 
 
 Robinson, Doane: Encyclopedia of South Dakota, published by State of South 
 Dakota at Pierre, S. D. 
 
 Smith, G. M.: South Dakota, Its History and People, S. J. Clarke Publishing 
 Company, Chicago. 
 
 Stennett, W. H.: Yesterday f Today, published by C & N W Ry. Co. 
 
 321 
 
I 
 
(2yndea: 
 
 B 
 
 Aberdeen, S.D., 173 
 
 Aberdeen 'News, 182 
 
 Adams, W. H., 22 
 
 Afton, Wis., 274. 
 
 Agar, Adam, 192, 195 
 
 Agassiz, Jean Louis, 69, 70 
 
 Aishton, Richard H., 24-8 
 
 Albany, N.Y., 3, 4, 6, 9, 11, 12, 14, 19, 
 
 20, 13G 
 Albany, Wis., 274 
 Alcester, S.D., 273, 274 
 Alexandria, S.D., 174 
 Alliance, Neb., 207 
 American Fur Trading Co., 96 
 American Land Co., 16, 30 
 Andreas, A. T., 113 
 Angle, Paul (Chicago Fire historian), 
 
 132 
 Appleton, Wis., 81, 154, 220 
 Argyle, 111., 274 
 Armstrong, George B., 117-120 
 Arnold, Isaac N., 10, 31, 47, 52, 53, 128 
 Arnot, Marianna (Mrs. Wm. B. Og- 
 
 den), 133 
 Ashland, Wis., 220 
 Ashley, Ossian D., 80 
 Astor, John Jacob, 96 
 Atlantic, Iowa, 199 
 Atlantic Coast Line R.R., 135 
 Auburn, N.Y., 136 
 Auburn, Wis., 274 
 Aurora Branch R.R., 61 
 Aurora, 111., 277 
 Austin, 111., 65 
 Avignon, France, 99 
 Avondale, 111., 274 
 
 Babcock's Grove, 111., 72, 74 
 
 Bad Axe, Battle of, 40 
 
 Bad Lands, 165, 169, 228, 236, 239, 244, 
 
 273 
 Baden, Germany, 229 
 Baer, Ben, 170 
 Bain, John, 162 
 Baird, Billy, 170 
 Baldwin Locomotive Co., 58 
 Ballard, C. A., 22 
 Baltimore, Md., 15 
 Baltimore & Ohio R.R., 13, 14, 261 
 Baltimore American, 39 
 Banff, Canada, 285 
 Bangor, Wis., 274 
 Baraboo Air Line R.R., 160 
 Barnes, Judge John P., 257, 259 
 Barney, D. N., and Co., 150 
 Bartholomew, G. M., 81 
 Bates, John, 31 
 Bayfield, Wis., 153, 274 
 Beaubien, J. B., 22 
 Beaubien, Madore, 22 
 Beaubien, Mark, 22, 28, 29, 36 
 Beauregard, Gen. Pierre G., 135, 136 
 Belden, N.J., 162 
 Bellamy, Paul, 241 
 
 Belle Fourche, S.D., 228, 232, 245, 246 
 Belle Plaine, Iowa, 109 
 Beloit, Iowa, 162, 163 
 Beloit & Madison R.R., 123 
 Beloit, Wis., 62, 73-75, 78, 122, 228 
 Belvidere, lU., 61, 73, 74, 122 
 Beresford, Adm. Lord Charles, 273 
 Beresford, S.D., 273, 274 
 Bessemer steel mill, Wyandotte, Mich., 
 
 143 
 
 323 
 
321 
 
 Bigelow, Minn., 172 
 
 Big Sioux County, S.D., 157 
 
 Big Suamico, Wis., 221 
 
 Bishop, Gen. J. W., 109 
 
 Bismurck, S.D., 167, 168, 173, 174 
 
 Black Huwk War, 1.5, 40, 41 
 
 Black Hills, 151, 165-167, 169, 170, 175, 
 
 224, 227, 228, 230, 232-234, 236, 239- 
 
 244, 246, 285, 286 
 Blair, D. C, 162 
 
 Blair, John I., 123-126, 159, 162-164 
 Blair, Montgomery (Postmaster Gen.), 
 
 118, 120 
 Blair, Neb., 145 
 Blairstown, N.J., 123, 162 
 Blizzard Club, 199 
 Blodgctt, Judge Henry W., 71, 128 
 Bloomington, 111., 188 
 Bonestecl, S.D., 235, 236 
 Boone, Iowa, 119, 191, 192, 194, 224 
 Boonesboro, Iowa, 123 
 Booth, John Wilkes, 188 
 Booth, William A., 80 
 Borglum, Gutzon, 2,33, 240, 243 
 Boscobel (Ogden's country estate), 129, 
 
 132 
 Boston, Ma.ss., 24, 70 
 Bottineau, Pierre (legendary), 96 
 Bramhall, S.D., 274 
 Brampton, Mich., 273 
 Brennan, Mayor John R., 233, 239 
 Bronson, Arthur, 16, 53 
 Bronson, George, 15, 31 
 Brookings, S.D., 238 
 Brooks, James, 271 
 Broughton, F. S. D., 233 
 Brown, Walston H., 151 
 Brown, William H., 51, 71, 121 
 Bryan, William Jennings, 222 
 Buchanan, James, 116 
 Buckner, Morris, 36 
 Buell, CJen. Don Carlos, 135 
 Buffalo, N.Y., 18, 20, 21, 27, 34, 35 
 Buffalo Gap, S.D., 169, 170, 244 
 Bulow, Gov. William J., 233 
 Bunyan, Paul (legendary), 96 
 Butler, Benjamin, 12, 16, 19 
 Butler, Charles, 11-18, 20, 23, 31, 32, 34, 
 
 53, 63, 71, 79, 81 
 
 Butler family, 6-7 
 Buxton, Neb., 274 
 
 Cable, R.R., 153 
 
 Cairo, 111., 117, 136 
 
 Calamity June, 240 
 
 Caledonia, 111., 273 
 
 Calhoun, George, 29 
 
 California Junction, Iowa, 145 
 
 Camden & Amboy R.R., 271 
 
 Campbell, Henry R., 271 
 
 Canadian Pacific R.R., 135 
 
 Canton, S.D., 162 
 
 Carnarvon, Iowa, 273 
 
 Carpenter, Philo, 22 
 
 Carver, David, 22 
 
 Cary, 111., 79, 80 
 
 Casey, John, 209, 210 
 
 Casper, Wyo., 126, 224, 232, 238, 239 
 
 Caton, Judge John D., 136 
 
 Cedar Rapids, Iowa, 69, 124, 125, 145 
 
 Cedar Rapids & Missouri River R.R., 
 123, 125, 126, 145 
 
 Central City, S.D., 169 
 
 Central Pacific R.R., 116, 282 
 
 Centralia, III., 136, 137 
 
 Century of Progress Exposition, 256 
 
 Ceres, goddess of harvest, 99 
 
 Chadron, Neb., 169, 170, 207, 232, 244 
 
 Chamberlain, S.D., 165, 173, 174, 176, 
 236, 237 
 
 Chapman, George, 22 
 
 Chatfield, Minn., 209, 210 
 
 Chatfield R.R., 144 
 
 Cherry Valley, 111., 73, 277 
 
 Cheyenne, Wyo., 168, 236, 244 
 
 Chicago, 111., 14-18, 20-25, 27, 28, 30-44, 
 47-49, 51-57, 59-75, 79-82, 87, 88, 92, 
 100, 102, 104, 113, 115, 117-119, 122- 
 129, 131, 132, 136, 142, 1.52, 154, 158, 
 160, 161, 168, 180, 181, 187, 188, 197, 
 211, 217-221, 224-228, 230, 243, 246, 
 251, 253, 257, 269, 270, 273, 274, 277- 
 282, 284-286 
 
 Chicago & Alton R.R., 136, 188 
 
 Chicago, Burlington & Quincy R.R., 61, 
 76 
 
325 
 
 Chicago Daily Journal, 59 
 
 Chicago & Dakota R'y, 144. 
 
 Chicago Democrat, 29 
 
 Chicago & Eastern Indiana R.R., 260- 
 
 262 
 Chicago Fire, 30, 36, 44, 65, 66, 130, 131, 
 
 160, 269 
 Chicago, Fulton & Iowa Line, 74, 75 
 Chicago Historical Society, 10, 37, 52 
 Chicago, Iowa & Nebraska R.R., 72, 
 
 123, 124, 126, 145 
 Chicago & MUwaukee R.R., 127, I2S, 
 
 144 
 Chicago, Milwaukee & North Western 
 
 R'y, 144, 145, 162-164 
 Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul R'y, 
 133, 134, 137, 139, 161, 172, 179, 234, 
 236 
 Chicago, St. Paul & Fond du Lac R.R., 
 
 76, 79 
 Chicago, St. Paul & Minneapolis R'y, 
 
 151, 152 
 Chicago, Saint Paul, Minneapolis & 
 Omaha R.R. (The Omaha), 100, 103, 
 109, 137, 145, 149, 152-154, 162, 172, 
 211, 231, 254, 256, 274 
 Chicago & Tomah R.R., 144 
 Chicago Tribune, 117 
 Chicago, University of, 37 
 Chicago World's Fair (1893 & 1933), 
 
 59, 221 
 Chippewa Indians, 15, 97 
 Chouteau, August, 6 
 Chouteau, Pierre, 155, 231 
 Churchill, Randolph, 274 
 Cincinnati, Ohio, 13, 38 
 Civil War, 69, 85, 88-90, 94, 100, 104, 
 
 113, 115, 117, 1.31, 135, 157 
 Clark, S.D., 202-204 
 
 Clark, Lt. William (explorer), 70, 231 
 Cleveland, Ohio, 27 
 Clinton, DeWitt, 7 
 Clinton, Iowa, 72, 118, 124, 145, 150 
 Clintonville, Wis., 220 
 Clybourne, Archie, 29 
 Clybourn Junction, 111., 277 
 Cobden, Minn., 273 
 
 Cody, William F. (Buffalo Bill), 233 
 Cole. William, 205 
 
 Coleridge, Wis., 274 
 Collins, James H., 32, 52, 62 
 Conway, Barret, 137 
 Cooke, Jay, & Co., 160 
 Coolidge, Calvin, 233, 241-243 
 Cordova, Neb., 199 
 Corinth, Miss., 135 
 Corning, Erastus, 54 
 Cottage Hill, 111., 73, 276, 285 
 Council Bluffs, Iowa, 66, 117, 119, 124- 
 126, 139, 145, 224, 227, 231, 280, 284 
 Courtney, A. C, 81 
 Credit Landing, Minn., 108 
 Creighton, Neb., 145 
 Crouch, C. D., 233 
 Crystal Falls, Mich., 143, 219 
 Cumberland, Md., 24 
 Custer, S.D., 167, 168 
 Custer, Gen. George A., 167, 230, 231 
 Custer Park, S.D., 241, 243 
 
 D 
 
 Dakota Central R.R., 145, 161, 217, 219 
 
 Dakota Southern R.R., 159, 162, 168 
 
 Dallas, S.D., 236 
 
 Danby, 111., 74 
 
 Darling, Enoch, 22 
 
 Darling, Grace, 193 
 
 Darling, M. C, 81 
 
 Davis, W. N., 52 
 
 Deadwood, S.D., 168-170, 211, 231, 232, 
 
 234, 239, 244 
 Dearborn, Ned H., 283 
 Dearborn, Fort, 15, 27 
 Deere, John, 55 
 Deering, 111., 212 
 Denver, Colo., 257, 285 
 Depew, Chauncey, 216 
 Derby, Minn., 274 
 
 Des Moines, Iowa, 71, 124, 126, 154, 227 
 Dcs Moines & Minneapolis R.R., 126, 
 
 146 
 Des Moines & Minnesota R.R., 126, 195 
 De Smet, S.D., 202 
 Detroit, Iowa, 163 
 Detroit, Mich., 15, 27, 57, 143 
 Diamond A Ranch, 244, 246 
 Dickinson Hotel, 127 
 
326 
 
 DixDii, 111., 12, 55, Gl, 02, 66, 67, 73, 87, 
 
 122 
 Dixon Air Line, 122 
 Dixon & Central Iowa R.R., GG 
 Doland, S.D., 200-202 
 Dole, George W., 19-23, 27-29, 63, 71 
 Donnelly, Ignatius, 229 
 Donohuc, Pat, 192 
 Douglas, Stephen A., 60, 87 
 Douglas, Wyo., 232 
 Dows, David, 151, 153 
 Drake, E. F., 108, 109 
 Driscoll, Robert H., 169, 170 
 Drummond, Thomas, 49, 51-53 
 Duliuque, Iowa, 32, 62, 187, 197 
 Duluth, Minn., 71, 86, 151, 228, 285 
 Dundee, III., 273 
 Dyer, Thomas, 52 
 Dyer, Dr. Volmy, 127 
 
 E 
 
 East Fork, 111., 38 
 
 East St. Louis, 111., 224 
 
 Ebbert, John, 59 
 
 Eland, Wis., 220 
 
 Elgin, III., 47-49, 5G, GO, 73, 74, 122, 227 
 
 Elgin & State Line U.K., 75, 122, 144, 
 
 145 
 Elroy, Wis., 151, 153 
 Erie Canal, 7, 14 
 Erie Canal (steamship), 36 
 Erie, Pa., 19 
 Escanaba, Mich., 143 
 Escanaba & Lake Superior R'y, 143, 
 
 145 
 Esmond, S. D., 273 
 Eton, Minn., 274 
 Evanston, 111., 277, 278 
 Exeter, Iowa, 273 
 Eyota, Minn., 209, 210 
 
 Ferguson, Lew, 278 
 
 Ferry, W. H., 153 
 
 Field, Benjamin, 187 
 
 Field, Norman, 187 
 
 Fink, Mike (legendary), 231 
 
 Florence, Wis., 143 
 
 Flower, K. P., 153 
 
 Fond du Lac, Wis., 79, 80 
 
 Fond du Lac R.R., 80 
 
 Fordham Heights, N.Y., 129 
 
 Fort Atkinson, Wis., 78 
 
 Fort Howard (Green Bay), Wis., 81 
 
 Fort Niobrara, Neb., 145 
 
 Fort Pierre, S.D., 1.50, 168, 231 
 
 Fort Pierre Fair Play, 182 
 
 Fort Snelling, 98 
 
 Four Hundred, The, 257, 263, 279, 281, 
 
 282, 284 
 Fox Indians, 15, 40 
 Fox River Valley R.R., 75 
 Frankfort, S.D., 200 
 Free]K)rt, 111., 42, 43, G4, 66, 71, 73, 74, 
 
 87, 122, 187 
 Fremont, Neb., 126, 139, 145, 169, 224 
 Fremont, Elkhorn & Missouri Valley 
 
 R.R., 126, 137, 145, 169, 217-219, 224, 
 
 232, 235, 238, 245, 246 
 Fulton, 111., 42, 61, 66, 67, 73-75, 122 
 
 G 
 
 Gale, Stephen, 22 
 
 Galena, III., 24, 25, 32, 38-43, 48, 49, 51- 
 55, 62, 64, 66, 114, 122 
 
 Galena & Chicago Union R.R., 32, 37, 
 40, 41, 44, 47, 49, 51, 55-GS, 71-73, 75, 
 78, 85, 87, 115, 116, 121-124, 126, 129, 
 140, 144, 15.3, 187, 188, 215, 222, 238, 
 270, 271, 273, 276, 285 
 
 Galtier, Father Lucian, 96 
 
 Gardner, William A., 248 
 
 Garrett, Mayor Augustus, 47 
 
 Genesee Valley Canal, 63 
 
 Geneva, III., 122 
 
 Geneva, Neb., 199 
 
 Geneva, N.Y., 16 
 
 Ghent, Treaty of, 96 
 
 Gilbert, James, 22 
 
 Gilctte, Earl, 211 
 
 Gladstone, Mich., 273 
 
 Gladstone, W. E. (British Prime Min- 
 ister), 273 
 
 Goldacker, Caroline, 211, 212 
 
 Goldsmith, Oliver. 274 
 
Goodhue, Josiali C, 32 
 
 Gorman, Gov. W. A., 101 
 
 Gould, Jay, 123, 216 
 
 Grange, The, 140-142 
 
 Grant, Gen. Ulysses S., 114, 115, 136 
 
 Great Northern R'y, 101, 139 
 
 Greeley, Horace, 5 
 
 Green Bay, Wis., 69, 81, 82, 123 
 
 Green Bay, Milwaukee & Chicago R.R., 
 
 127 
 Grignon family, 81, 82 
 Guernsey, Iowa, 274 
 
 H 
 
 327 
 
 Hudson & River Falls R.R., 152 
 
 Hudson River R.R., 5.5 
 
 Hughitt, Marvin, 134-139, 143, 161, 215- 
 
 222, 236, 237, 248, 249 
 Hughitt, Marvin Jr., 237, 243 
 Hugunin, Capt. Hiram, 127 
 Humbird, Jacob, 153 
 Humbird, John A., 153 
 Huntington, CoUis P., 135 
 Huntley, 111., 73 
 Hurley, Wis., 220 
 Huron, S.D., 173-176, 199, 242 
 Hutchins, E. W., 81 
 
 Hale, William, 24, 25, 30, 31, 35 
 Hall, Eugene J., 198 
 Halleck, Gen. Henry W., 135, 136 
 Hallowell, Maine, 36 
 Hamilton, R. J., 22 
 Hapsgood, Dexter, 22 
 Harlem, III., 73-75, 122 
 Harriman, E. H., 139 
 Harrison, AVis., 220 
 Hartington, Neb., 274 
 Hastings, Neb., 224 
 Havana, 111., 198 
 Hawarden, Iowa, 273, 274 
 Hayes, Samuel S., 113 
 Healy, George P. A., 10 
 Hearst, Phoebe, 232 
 Hemlock Mine, 219 
 Hempstead, C. M., 53 
 Hempstead, C. S., 52 
 Henderson, Minn., 107 
 Hennepin, Louis, 38 
 Heron Lake, Minn., 151 
 Hickok, Wild Bill, 231, 240 
 Hill, James J., 135 
 Hogan, John, 22, 29 
 Homestead Act, 116 
 Honey Creek, Iowa, 191, 192, 198 
 Hoover, Herbert, 252 
 Hot Springs, S.D., 179 
 Houghton, Douglass, 230 
 Howe, Francis, 51 
 Hubbard, Elijah Kent, 50, 62 
 Hubbard, Grayson, 29 
 Hudson, Wis., 153 
 
 Illinois Central R.R., 41, 60, 64, 66, 75, 
 
 13.5-1.37 
 Illinois & Michigan Canal, 31, 33, 34 
 Illinois & Michigan Canal Commission, 
 
 39 
 Illinois & Mississippi Telegraph Co., 
 
 136 
 Illinois Infantry, Twenty-first, 115 
 Illinois Parallel R.R., 127 
 Illinois State Militia Board, 114 
 Illinois & Wisconsin R.R., 78, 79 
 Indianola, Iowa, 197 
 Interior, S.D., 207 
 Interior Junction, Wis., 220 
 Interstate Commerce Commission, 138, 
 
 180, 181, 218, 2.53, 258-260 
 Iowa Central Air-Line, 124, 125 
 Iowa Midland R'y, 145, 146 
 Iowa Southwestern R.R., 144, 146 
 Ipswich, Wis., 273 
 Ireland, William, 140 
 Iron River Junction, Mich., 143 
 Iron River R.R., 217 
 Ivanhoe, Minn., 273 
 
 Jackson, Andrew, 5, 12, 14, 23, 29 
 Jackson, Mitchell Y., 92, 93, 104 
 James MmUson (steamboat), 19-21, 23, 
 
 27, 28, 35 
 Janesville, Wis., 62, 68, 79, 80, 123 
 Jaync, Dr. William, 172 
 
328 
 
 Jefferson, Wis., 78 
 
 Jensen, Olaf, K8 
 
 Jervis, John IJ., 2T1 
 
 Johnson, Alex, 199-202, 205, 207, 233, 
 
 230, 237 
 Johnson, Col. R. M., 3S 
 Johnston, Cen. A. S., 135, 136 
 Jones, William K., 31 
 Junction U'y, 219 
 
 Kami)eska, S.D., KiO, Kit 
 Kate Shelley Bridge, 191, 197 
 Kaukauna, AVis., 81 
 Keep, Albert, 153, 217 
 Keep, Henry, 133, 131 
 Kelleher, Pat, 178 
 Kelly, Oliver Hudson, 140 
 Kenosha, Wis., 123 
 Kercheval, Gholson, 22, 29 
 Keystone, S. D., 169, 234, 239 
 Kimberly, E. S., 22 
 Kingsbury, G. W., 164, 180 
 Kinzie, James, 22 
 Kinzie, John H., 32 
 Kinzie, Robert, 15, 25, 28, 29 
 Kuhn-Loeb committee, 139 
 
 La Crescent, Wis., 92 
 
 La Crosse, Wis., 78, 79, 210 
 
 La Crosse & Milwaukee R.R., 80. 151 
 
 La Crosse, Tremi)leau & Prescott R.R., 
 
 160 
 La FoUette, Robert M., 229 
 Lake Benton, Wis., 101, 151 
 Lake Crystal, Minn., 150 
 Lake Forest, 111., 277 
 Lake House, The, 27, 28 
 Lake Louise, Canada, 285 
 Lake St. Croix, 151 
 Lander, Wyo., 225, 228, 238, 273, 285 
 Lane, 111., 67, 73 
 Lanier, James F. D., 80 
 Larson, Nels, 181 
 Lead, S.D., 1G9-171, 211, 2.32. 239 
 Lesterville Lediier. 182 
 Le Sueur, Minn., 95, 107, 230 
 
 Lewis, Iowa, 199 
 
 Lewis, Cai)t. Meriwether, 70, 231 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, 85, 94, 113, 116, 117, 
 
 136, 137, 172, 188, 229 
 Lincoln, Mary Todd, 172 
 Lincoln, Neb., 71, 154, 199, 224 
 Lincoln, Fort Abraham, S.D., 167 
 Limiegar, David T., 117, 118 
 Little Big -Horn, Battle of, 167, 168, 
 
 227, 230 
 Little Falls, Wis., 220 
 Locke Hotel, 174 
 Lombard, 111., 72 
 London, Wis., 273 
 London & Northwestern R'y, 250 
 Long Pine, Neb., 169 
 Los Angeles, Calif., 257, 285 
 Louisiana Purchase, 96 
 Louisville, Ky., 13 
 Lowell Institute, 70 
 Lowrey, Pete, 170 
 Ludington, Gov. Harrison, 142 
 Lyons, Iowa, 124 
 Lyons & Iowa Central R.U., 124 
 
 Mc 
 
 McCall, Jack, 231 
 
 McCormick, Cyrus, 33, 34, 55, 71, 92 
 
 McGill University, 143 
 
 McKenzie, Alex, 173, 174 
 
 McKinley, Maj. William, 222 
 
 McLaughlin, Mrs. Catherine, 130, 131 
 
 M 
 
 Madison, Wis., 62, 79, 101, 161, 227, 229 
 
 Madison & Beloit R.R., 78 
 
 Madison Express, 40 
 
 Magic Mountains, 165, 166, 168 
 
 Mahan, Robert, 57, 58 
 
 Manitowoc, Wis., 220 
 
 Mankato, Minn., 95, 103, 107, 109, 150, 
 
 151, 242 
 Maple River R.R., 145 
 Marchant, George E., 162 
 Mnrcy, William, 5 
 Marengo, 111., 73 
 Marquette & State Line R.R., 79, 80 
 
329 
 
 Marshfield, Wis., 220 
 
 Mather, Thomas, 50-52 
 
 Mayfair, 111., 2T3 
 
 Mayo, Dr. Charles, 230 
 
 Mayo, Dr. William, 230 
 
 Mayo, Dr. William W., 230 
 
 Maywood, III., 50, 60 
 
 Meeker, Dr. Moses, 38 
 
 Megan, Charles P., 257, 260 
 
 Mendota, Minn., 96, 106 
 
 Menominee R"y, 144 
 
 Menominee River R.R., 143-145 
 
 Merritt brothers: Alfred, Cassius, 
 
 Jerome, Leonidas, Lewis, Lucius, 
 
 Napoleon, 230 
 Mesabi iron range, 227, 230 
 Metropolitan, Mich., 143 
 Mexican War, 114 
 Meyers, T. N., 207 
 Michigan Central R.R., 54, 57, 58 
 Midland, S.D., 237 
 :ilikadn, The (operetta), 170 
 Mills, D. O., 216 
 Milwaukee, Wis., 71, 93, 100, 126-128, 
 
 161, 220, 228 
 Milwaukee & Chicago R.R., 127, 128 . 
 Milwaukee, Lake Shore & Western 
 
 R.R., 137, 220 
 Milwaukee & Madison R"y, 144 
 Milwaukee & Mississippi R.R., 79 
 Milwaukee Sentinel, 127 
 Mineral Point R.R., 75 
 Minneapolis, Minn., 71, 95-98, 103, 109, 
 
 152-154, 180. 228, 257 
 Minnesota & Black Hills R.R , 151 
 Minnesota Junction, Wis., 79, 80 
 Minnesota Valley R.R., 107, 108, 144, 
 
 150, 151 
 Mississippi River, 18, 22, 31, 32, 40-42, 
 
 61, 64, 66, 67, 69, 75, 87, 88, 94, 95, 
 
 97, 101, 115, 122-126, 145, 149, 150, 
 
 155, 160, 187, 196, 227, 229 
 Mississippi & Rock River Junction 
 
 R.R., 66, 67 
 Missouri Valley & Blair R'y & Bridge 
 
 Co., 145 
 Mitchell, Alexander, 134 
 Mitchell, S.D., 172-182, 206. 242 
 Mitchell, Gen. William ("BUly"), 134 
 
 Mitchell Republican, 182 
 
 Mohawk & Hudson R.R., 271 
 
 Moingona, Iowa, 191, 192, 194-198 
 
 Moline, 111., 55 
 
 Monarch of the Hudson (steamship), 20 
 
 Monico, Wis., 220 
 
 Moore, Tom, 26 
 
 Morgan, Richard, 55-57 
 
 Morrison, 111., 67, 73 
 
 Morristown, X.J., 5 
 
 Morse, Corbin, 232 
 
 Morse, Samuel, 65, 71, 113, 136 
 
 Muir, John, 229 
 
 Murphy, Dr. William P., 230 
 
 Museum of Science & Industry, 59 
 
 Mystic, S.D., 233 
 
 N 
 
 Narenta, Mich., 143 
 
 Nashville, Tenn., 13 
 
 National Safety Council, 283 
 
 Neenah, Wis., 81 
 
 Neligh, Neb., 169 
 
 Nelson, III., 224, 274 
 
 Nevada, Iowa, 123 
 
 New Buffalo, Mich., 57-59 
 
 New Deal regime, 139 
 
 New Diggings, 111., 38 
 
 New Orleans, La., 13 
 
 New Ulm, Minn., 95, 151 
 
 Newberry, Oliver, 22 
 
 Newberry, Walter L., 22, 29, 30, 47, 51, 
 
 52, 63, 121 
 Newberry & Dole, 20, 22, 24, 60 
 Newberry Library, 132 
 New York, N.Y., 8, 14, 15, 20, 27, 48, 
 
 81, 127, 129 
 New York Central R.R., 54 
 New York & Erie R.R., 12, 14, 21, 63 
 New York Evening Star, 18 
 Niles's Register, 40 
 Nininger, Minn., 229 
 Ninson, William, 22 
 Norbeck, Sen. Peter, 242 
 Norfolk, S.D., 167 
 North Chicago Rolling Mill, 143 
 Northern Illinois R.R., 217 
 Northern Pacific R.R., 13.5, 139, 173 
 
330 
 
 North Wisconsin U'y, 152 
 Nurlhwestern Gazelle ij Oalcna Ad- 
 
 v«rlhrr, tO 
 Northwestern Stage Co., 168 
 Northwestern Union R'y, 144 
 
 Oak Park (Oak Hidf?.), 111., 5!), 68, 153, 
 
 233, 270 
 Oakdale, Neb., 169 
 Oconto, Wis., 220 
 Ogden, Mrs. Abigail (Widow), 7, 8, 11- 
 
 13, 16, 17 
 Ogden, Abraham, 5-7, 9 
 Ogden, Fleetwood & Co., 31 
 Ogden, Iowa, 191, 198, 224 
 Ogden, Jones & Co., 31 
 Ogden, Mahlon, 8, 9, 1.3, 31, 53, 71, 81, 
 
 132 
 Ogden, Peter Skene, 6 
 Ogden, Sheldon & Co., 31 
 Ogden, Utah, 6 
 
 Ogden, William (1st settler), 5 
 Ogden, William Rutler, 3-38, 40, 41, 44, 
 
 47-1!), 51-59, 62-64, 68-71, 80-82, 85- 
 
 87, 100, 116, 117, 121, 123, 128, 129, 
 
 131-133, 150-152, 215, 225-229, 231, 
 
 233, 270, 271, 274-276, 285 
 Ogdensburg, N,Y., 5, 6 
 Ohio Life Insurance & Trust Co. of 
 
 New York, 104 
 Old Ashton, S.D., 201 
 Old Minnescla, S.D., 245 
 O'Leary, Mrs., 130, 131 
 Olmstead, George, 192, 195 
 Omaha, Neb., 71, 117, 119, 126, 139, 142, 
 
 1.50, 153, 154, 170, 188, 227, 228, 246, 
 
 280 
 Omaha & North Nebraska R.R., 152 
 O'Meara, Father, 25, 26 
 Ontonagon & State Line R.R., 79, 80 
 Ordway, Nehemiah, 173 
 Oregon, 111., 42 
 Ormonde, Duke of, 11 
 Otis, .John, 36 
 Ottumwa, Cedar Falls & St. P.iul R'y, 
 
 14G 
 Owen, T. J. V., 22, 29 
 
 Paint River R"y, 219 
 
 Palatine, 111., 277 
 
 Parker, W. H., 170 
 
 Park Falls, Wi.s., 211 
 
 Parr.mt, Pierre, 95-97 
 
 Parrish Junction, Wis., 220 
 
 Patrons of Husbandry, 140 
 
 Patton, Dr. William W., 114 
 
 Paulson, D. A., 201 
 
 Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, 263, 279, 280 
 
 Pearson, John, 168 
 
 Pearsons, Hiram, 22 
 
 Pease, J. J. R., 81 
 
 Peck, Ebenezer, 32 
 
 Pender, Neb., 274 
 
 Pennsylvania Society for the Promotion 
 
 of Internal Improvements, 271 
 Peoria, 111., 38, 224 
 Perkins, Thomas H., 81 
 Perth, Minn., 273, 274 
 Peshtigo, Wis., 44, 132 
 Peters, E. C, 222, 231 
 Philadelphia, Pa., 4-9, 13-15, 48 
 Philip, S.D., 232, 236 
 Pierre, S.D., 161, 165, 172-180, 182, 183, 
 
 206, 224, 232, 234, 236, 237, 239, 242 
 Pig's Eye, Minn., 96, 97, 227 
 Pittsburgh, Pa., 129 
 Plainview R.R., 144 
 Planks, S.D., 209, 210 
 Plant, Henry B., 135 
 Poole, Ernest, 274, 275 
 Pope, Gen. John, 136 
 Porter, H. H., 151, 1.53 
 Portland, Oregon, 257, 285 
 Pottawattomie Indians, 15 
 Potter, Sen. R. L. D., 141 
 Potter Law, 141-143 
 Powers, Mich., 143 
 Prairie du Chien, Wis., 79, 80, 86, 96, 
 
 97 
 Pratt Junction, Wis., 220 
 Presbyterian University, 174 
 Prhle of the Lakes (steamship), 20 
 Princetcm & Western R.R., 217, 219 
 Promontory Point, Utah, 116 
 Prophetstown, 111., 42 
 
331 
 
 Proviso, 111., 250, 251 
 
 Pruyne, Pete, 29 
 
 Pullman, George M., 72, 137, 187, 188 
 
 Pullman Palace Car Co., 134, 137, 187 
 
 Q 
 
 Quinnesee, Mich., 143 
 
 R 
 
 Radisson, Wis., 211 
 
 Railway Condvictors, Order of, 197 
 
 Ramsey, Gov. Alexander, 86, 87, 106 
 
 Ramson & Saratoga R.R., 63 
 
 Randolph, Neb., 274 
 
 Rapid City, S.D., 168-170, 173, 178, 232- 
 
 234, 236, 239-213 
 Rapid City Joiminl, 181 
 Ravena, N.Y., 3 
 RajTDond, B. W., 47, 52, 75 
 Raymond, S.D., 201 
 Reconstruction Finance Corp., 256 
 Redfield, S.D., 176, 200, 202 
 Reed, Charles M., 19-21 
 Revolutionary War, 6 
 Reynolds, III., 39 
 Rice, Edmund, 102 
 Richards, Ralph C, 283 
 Richmond, 111., 122 
 Rider, Eli, 22 
 Robbins, Allen, 52 
 Robertson, Col. D. A., 140 
 Robinson, Doane, 161, 240, 241 
 Rochester, Minn., 95, 101, 103, 228, 242 
 Rochester & Northern Minnesota R'y, 
 
 144 
 Rockerville, S.D., 169, 239 
 Rockford, III., 37, 42, 43, 47, 48, 61, 62, 
 
 73, 123, 227 
 Rockford & Rock Island R.R., 66 
 Rock Island, 111., 55, 62 
 Rock River Valley Union R.R., 78, 79 
 Rockville, 111., 37 
 Rogers Park, 111., 277 
 Root River & Southern Minnesota 
 
 R.R., 101, 103, 151 
 Rosebud Reservation, 235, 236 
 Ross, Horatio N., 167, 230 
 Roth, Claude A., 260 
 
 Rushmore, Mount, 241 
 
 Russell, J. B., 47 
 
 Ryan, Chief Justice Edward G., 141 
 
 Sac Indians, 15, 40 
 
 St. Anthony Express, 98 
 
 St. Anthony Falls, Minn., 95-98, 103, 
 
 227 
 St. Charles Air Line Branch, 74, 122 
 St. Charles R.R., 144 
 St. Croix Falls, Wis., 78 
 St. James, Minn., 107, 225 
 St. James' Church, 30 
 St. Louis, Mo., 6, 38, 40, 41, 97, 175, 180, 
 
 231 
 St. Louis, Alton & Chicago R.R., 136 
 St. Louis Fair of 1903, 59 
 St. Mary's of the Lake, Church of, 26 
 St. Paui, Minn., 71, 72, 79, 85, 86, 88, 
 92, 93, 95-98, 101-104, 107, 109, 110, 
 140, 150, 152-154, 157, 161, 210, 228, 
 257, 280, 281 
 St. Paul Eastern Grand Trunk R.R., 
 
 220 
 St. Paul Pioneer, 107 
 St. Paul & Sioux City R.R., 109, 151, 
 
 152 
 St. Paul, Stillwater & Taylor Falls 
 
 R.R., 152 
 St. Peter, Minn., 93, 101, 107, 160 
 Salem, 111., 261 
 Salt Lake City, Utah, 92 
 San Francisco, Calif., 257, 278, 280, 282, 
 
 285 
 Sargent, Fred W., 256, 262 
 Sauganash House, 28, 36 
 Saunders, William, 140 
 Savage, Minn., 108 
 Savanna, 111., 42, 64 
 Sawyer, Edgar P., 1.53 
 Sawyer, Philetus, 153 
 Scales Mound, 111., 64 
 Scammon, Eliakim, 36 
 Scammon, Jonathan Y., 35-37, 47-53, 60, 
 
 62-64, 68, 71, 78 
 Schreiber, Rev. Francis, 198 
 Schurz, Carl, 229 
 
333 
 
 Scott, Snmurl, 239 
 
 Scrantiin, Pa., Ifi2 
 
 Scripiis, .John I.., 117 
 
 Seaforth, Minn., 273 
 
 Seattle, Wash., 280 
 
 Sewerage Commissioners, Board of, H 
 
 Seymour, James, iO 
 
 Shnkopee, Minn., lOfi, 108, 109 
 
 Shannon, Judpe, 164 
 
 Sheboygan & Western R'y, lU 
 
 Sheehan, Daniel, 59 
 
 Shelley, Kate, 191-198 
 
 Shelley, Michael J., 192 
 
 Sheridan, I.t. Gen. Philip, 131 
 
 Shiloh, Battle of, 135 
 
 Shoshoni Indians, 225 
 
 ShuUsburg, 111., 38 
 
 Sibley, H. H., 108 
 
 Sidney, S.D., 167 
 
 Sidney, Neb., 168, 171, 239, 244 
 
 Simpson College, 197 
 
 Sioux City, Iowa, 71, 126, 145, 153, 154, 
 
 163, 167, 168, 205, 222, 224, 227, 231, 
 
 273, 274 
 Sioux City & Dakota R.R., 162-164 
 Sioux City & Pacific R.R., 126, 137, 139, 
 
 145, 217-219 
 Sioux City & Pembina R.R., 162, 164 
 Sioux Critic, 181 
 Sioux Falls, S.D., 152, 157-159, 162-164, 
 
 172-174, 179, 227, 236 
 Sioux Indians, 87, 97, 98, 100, 102, 150, 
 
 156, 164, 166-168, 230, 232, 233, 235, 
 
 286 
 Sitting Bull, Chief, 230, 231, 233 
 Sleepy Eye, Minn., 224 
 Slim Princess (train), 211 
 Slocombe, Capt., 21, 23, 27, 28 
 Smith, George M., 175 
 Smith, Gregory, 32 
 Smith, Henry, 81 
 Smith, Mathias, 22 
 Smith, Perry H., 71, 81, 82 
 Smith, Thcojihilus W., 32, 60, 62 
 Snelling, Col. Josiah, 96 
 Snow, George, 22 
 South Carolina, Secession of, 113 
 
 South Dakota State Agricultural Col- 
 lege, 238 
 
 Southern Minnesota R.R., 103, 105-108 
 
 Southern Pacific R.R., 135, 257, 281, 282 
 
 Si)ringfu-ld, 111., 172, 188 
 
 Stainbaugli, Mich., 113 
 
 Stamford, N.Y., 3 
 
 Standing Buffalo (Oglala Indian), 166 
 
 Stanton, Edwin M. (Scc'y of War), 
 137 
 
 Stanwood & Tipton R'y, 146 
 
 State Line & Union R.R., 144 
 
 Steele, Franklin (legendary), 96 
 
 Stennctt, W. H., 50, 73, 121, 187, 188, 
 206 
 
 Sterling, 111., 42, 67, 73 
 
 Stevens, Col. John H., 97, 98 
 
 Stewart, Hart L., 47 
 
 Stillwater, Minn., 89, 93, 153 
 
 Stratford, Wis., 274 
 
 Strickland, William, 271 
 
 Sturgis, S.D., 170 
 
 Sullivan, Dennis, 130 
 
 Sumter, Fort, 113 
 
 Sun Valley, Idaho, 285 
 
 Superior, Neb., 224 
 
 Superior, Wis., 71, 153, 228 
 
 Sutherland, Iowa, 273 
 
 Sweeny, Tom, 240 
 
 Sycamore, Courtland & Chicago R.R., 
 217 
 
 Taylor, Charles, 22 
 
 Taylor, Edmund D., 32 
 
 Taylor, Gov. W. D., 141 
 
 Temple, J. T., 22, 32 
 
 Thompson, Horace, 108 
 
 Thompson, James, 39 
 
 Thompson, J. E., 108 
 
 Thomson, Charles M., 260 
 
 Tilden, Samuel J., 71, 76, 80 
 
 Todd, Capt. J. B. S., 172 
 
 Toledo «c Northwestern R'y, 144, 145, 
 
 15.3, 217, 219 
 Tomah, Wis., 151 
 
 Tomah & Lake St. Croix R.R., 151 
 Toussaint I>'Ouverture (Emperor of 
 
 Haiti), 99 
 
333 
 
 Townsend, Elisha, 50-62 
 
 Tracy, John F., l.St 
 
 Tracy, Minn., 151, 161 
 
 Transit Co., 107 
 
 Transportation Act of 1920, 24S 
 
 Tremont House, 57, 58, 64, 114 
 
 Trollope, Anthony, 94 
 
 Troy & Schenectady R.R., 63 
 
 Turner, John B., 47, 52, 61-66, 68, 71, 
 
 72, 75, 121, 187 
 Turner (Turner Junction), 111., 60, 61, 
 
 66, 67, 72, 74, 75, 122 
 Turton, S.D., 27.3 
 Twombly, H. McK., 216 
 
 U 
 
 Union Army, 115 
 
 Union Pacific R.R., 116, 117, 126, 139, 
 
 153, 257, 280-2S2 
 United States Railroad Administration, 
 
 248 
 United States Railroad Labor Board, 
 
 249 
 United States Supreme Court, 142, 253, 
 
 259, 260 
 University of Wisconsin, 227 
 Urgent Deficiencies Act, 260 
 Utah-Idaho Sugar Co., 246 
 Utica & Schenectady R.R., 58 
 
 Vail, C. E., 162 
 
 Valentine, Neb., 145, 169 
 
 Vance Bill, 142 
 
 Vancouver, Canada, 285 
 
 Vanderbilt, F. W., 216 
 
 Vanderbilt, W. K., 216 
 
 Van Deusen Grain Co., 202 
 
 Van Home, Sir William, 135 
 
 Van Nortwick, John, 57-59, 64, 66, 67 
 
 Verdigre, Neb., 235 
 
 Verendrye brothers, 166 
 
 Verne, Jules, 178 
 
 W 
 
 Wall, S.D., 236, 244 
 Walker, Charles, 52 
 
 Walton, N.Y., 3-8, 11, 19, 34, 35, 62 
 War Department, United States, 114 
 Warren, 111., 64 
 Warren's Mills, Wis., 151 
 Washburne, Elihu, 52, 53 
 Washington, D.C., 8, 12, 60, 97, 102, 117, 
 
 120, 125, 157, 158, 165, 241, 242 
 Washington, George, 24, 241 
 Watkins, John, 22 
 Watertown, S.D., 174, 199, 202, 203 
 Watertown, Wis., 78 
 Waterville, Maine, 36 
 Waupaca, Wis., 81 
 Waukegan, 111., 127, 212, 278, 279 
 Weed, George, 13, 17, 34 
 Weed family, 5, 6, 8 
 Weld, William F., 54 
 Wellington, Mich., 274 
 Wentworth, Elijah, 29 
 Western Wisconsin R.R., 151 
 West Point Military Academy, 114 
 Weyerhaeuser, Frederick (lumberman), 
 
 230 
 Wheaton, 111., 74 
 Wheeling, John, 8, 9 
 Wheeling, Mary, 8-10, 13 
 White, L. L., 284 
 White, Stewart E.. 243 
 Whitewood, S.D., 232, 245 
 Wicker, C. G., 162-164 
 Wilder, A. H., 108 
 Willard, Frances, 197 
 Willard, William C, 143 
 Williams, Rowland L., 260-265, 283 
 Willow Ri%'er, Wis., 78 
 M'ilson, Walter, 201 
 Winfield, 111., 74 
 Winnebago Indians, 15 
 Winnebago War, 39 
 Winnetka, 111., 277 
 Winona, Minn., 92, 101, 103, 150, 154, 
 
 160, 236 
 Winona & St. Peter R.R., 107, 144, 150, 
 
 160, 161, 217, 219 
 Winslow, Albert, 81 
 Winslow, James, 80 
 Wisconsin Northern R'y, 221 
 Wisconsin R.R., 144 
 Wisconsin & Superior R.R., 79, 80 
 
334 
 
 Wisconsin Siiiireme Court, 111, 112 
 
 Wisner, Neb., 169 
 
 Wolsey, S.D., 27 1 
 
 Wolsey, Thomas Cardinal, 274 
 
 Wood, Ed, 192, 191, 195 
 
 Woodstock, 111., 78, 276 
 
 Woonsocket Capital Investment Co., 
 
 171 
 World War I, 138, 239, 264. 
 World War 11, 139, 26 «■ 
 Worthington & Sioux Falls R.R., 151, 
 
 152 
 Wovoka (medicine man), 232 
 
 Wrifihl, Frank Lloyd, 229 
 
 Wrifrht, John, 22 
 
 Wyoming Central U.K., 217, 218, 238 
 
 Yankton, S.D., 159, 162, 164, 168, 172, 
 
 173, 182, 235 
 Yates, Gov. Richard, 114. 
 Yellowstone Park, 285 
 Yokohama, Japan, 280 
 Youiijr, Bripham, 6 
 Young, J. U., 81